Original Sin
by Torithy
Summary: Jackson Teller would have met Mr Mayhem head on. His ultimate course of action was never about escaping justice, only sparing his executioners, and trying to make that mean something is all that's keeping Chibs going. More scarred than ever and left wielding the gavel he never wanted, can he lead Samcro out of the ashes or will it keep burning up those at its heart? Post-season 7
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: So, I'm always pottering away at stories that invade my brain, but I'm a bit out of the loop here so I dunno how much interest there is now SOA is a good few years in the rear-view mirror, but thought I'd fire this up and see how it goes. It picks up probably nine/ten months after the end of the final season and it's Chibs-centric, but has an ensemble cast. **

**I've stuck largely to canon for now, but have also adopted my version of Chibs' backstory as documented in my previous fic Scars. ******You won't have to have read it to follow this (although if you wanted to, I'd be delighted and would love to know what you think - while it's far from perfect and I'm my own toughest critic, it's probably the story I'm most proud of), but I just wanted to flag it in case any details ring a bell and anyone thinks I've copied ideas from another story - I have, but it's mine lol!** Would love to hear your thoughts! T x**

* * *

**Original Sin  
**_Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall  
\- William Shakespeare_

* * *

**One**

The gavel weighed heavy in his ringed hand. It always had. Always would, he suspected.

Christ knows he'd never wanted it to fall to him, not as it had. _Never_ as it had. Nearly a year on and he still couldn't seem to get his head around it. Still expected to look up and see that familiar figure crossing the yard, swagger in every step and flashing an easy grin.

_Ah, Jacky, how I miss ya, my boy …_

"Brother …"

At the low prompt from his side, Filip 'Chibs' Telford looked up to find his men waiting expectantly, more than a few of them shifting awkwardly in the face of their president's ill-disguised emotion. He blinked to clear the mist from his eyes and cleared his throat, as uncomfortable at having let his wandering thoughts get the better of him as they were.

"We vote," he declared roughly, raking a hand through the salt and pepper of his hair as he dragged himself back to the matter in hand. "You've all heard the details, had time to think on them – now, yay or nay?"

"Easy money," the voice by his side soon spoke up again. "Plus sending a message. No-brainer. I'm in. Yay."

Alexander 'Tig' Trager.

He'd been loyal to a fault – and a pretty fucking colossal fault at that – in his stint as sergeant-at-arms under Clay Morrow, but he'd proved something of a revelation as vice-president. Less impetuous, more considered in his actions. Maybe, all things considered, it shouldn't have been such a surprise. Even Jax Teller himself, having seen first-hand the efforts to atone and right old wrongs, had approved of the appointment and Tigger hadn't let either of them down.

Oh, he still had his moments. That fiery temper may have been dampened, but its embers still glowed. But the truth was that, without his support, Chibs doubted the Sons of Anarchy mother charter would ever have made it through those first six months after-

Grief still coiled in the pit of his belly, even now, like a particularly venomous snake and the Scot ducked his head again and swallowed hard, forcing himself to concentrate as the verdict circled the table. Tig's support had set the ball rolling in the right direction and, not coming from a place of blind faith like his backing for anything out of Clay's mouth, it had bolstered Chibs' confidence somewhat and he needed that. He might not have liked to admit it, but he did.

Too many people in his life had fucked up catastrophically when it came to decision-making. They were still bearing the scars carved largely unwittingly by each of them, for fuck's sake. A man could hardly be blamed for needing a little reassurance he was on the right track, could he?

"Yay."

"Yay."

A pause.

Chibs licked his dry lips, but steadfastly refused to shift his gaze to meet that of his silent brother. The choice had to be theirs, freely made.

"Yay."

He had years of poker playing to thank for keeping the relief he felt at that gravelled response off his face. The support of his stoic sergeant-at-arms meant as much as Tig's did.

Happy Lowman.

Now there was a man you wanted on your side. Tough, capable, ruthless. A stone-cold killer. And yet as well-cemented as his deadly reputation was, his love for his club and his brothers was undeniable. After all, hadn't Chibs himself witnessed something few would have believed without seeing it for themselves? The moment the hardened enforcer had wept on their young president's shoulder at the realisation of the inescapable path fate had dragged them down.

His own tears had flowed freely and he hadn't given a shit who saw, but then he always had been more open than most. Quick with his fists or his sharp tongue, but equally quick with exuberant, back-slapping hugs or smacking kisses. Even now, it wasn't that he was ashamed of his grief for their fallen brother – just that he needed his club to know that he had his head in the game. That he was fit to lead them out of the darkness that had all but consumed them.

Because they had to climb out of the ashes, all of them. If they wanted to survive. If they wanted Samcro to survive.

And it was all any of them had left.

* * *

"You heard from Nero lately?"

The question drew Chibs out of his reverie as he nursed a generous measure of whiskey perched on a stool at the corner of the bar, his lit cigarette burning down to the butt largely unsmoked.

It was quieter than Samcro Friday nights of old, with the club still living under the shadow of its troubled past. Despite the grim silence of the surviving members, word spread – a mixture of wild speculation and grains of truth woven into something that still didn't quite do justice to the horrors that had unfolded.

People would move on, in time. The harsh tale would soften at the edges, unthinkable though that still seemed now. New recruits had already stepped forward. Not as many as they needed, sure, but a start. But the reclaimed clubhouse wasn't quite the draw it had once been for those who sought to glamorise the version of an outlaw lifestyle they had created in their own mind, having never yet had to face the stark reality of a kind of brutality beyond their comprehension. Not yet.

"Aye," the Scot nodded, realising Tig was still waiting expectantly for an answer. "The wee lads are good. Wendy too, more or less."

Some days it was more, some days less. Chibs understood that. Felt the same himself in fact. Jax's ex could at least take comfort in knowing she had done her best by his kids, plucking them from the wreckage of their family and giving them a new life. A chance to grow up away from the bullets and the bloodshed.

It was what Tara had wanted. Jax too, in the end.

But there was still a weight on her shoulders and in her heart and he understood that too. Jax had been Wendy's first real love, the father of her son. In spite of everything, how toxic they had once been for each other, she loved him – perhaps at the end more than ever.

And Chibs had loved him too. Sometimes like a little brother, sometimes like a son. Always like blood.

The thought of having to be the one to punish their young president for the dark path he had, sometimes unwittingly and sometimes wilfully, dragged them down had sickened him to his core. Of all the things he had ever done – and by god, there were plenty he had lived to rue – that would have been the one to finally break him beyond repair.

The Mayhem vote itself had almost choked him, the 'yay' his head knew had to be delivered getting stuck in his throat as his heart ached and his eyes burned with the tears he had to force back. His gun had never felt as heavy as when it was pointed at the chest of the young man he had watched grow up, even though their fragile plan was already in place and he knew the bullet was destined for an unflinching Happy – the club's hitman determined to do his part to try to salvage something from the hellish nightmare they knew they weren't all getting out of alive.

Chibs, forcing down a gulp of the whiskey, still didn't know whether to be grateful or furious that Jax himself had spared him having to be the one to end it.

"You gonna be all right if I bounce?" Tig asked, concern in those sharp blue eyes and in the heavy hand on his president's shoulder.

The Scot managed a ghost of a smile, reaching to pat that hand and nodding his consent.

"Venus got you on a curfew?" he asked wryly, still bemused by the strange pairing, but unable to fault its calming influence on his notoriously ill-tamed brother. "Get outta here, Tiggy. Go home."

"You too?"

"Aye," he nodded, the lie coming easily to his tongue. "Home …"

Maybe it wasn't a lie after all. He had nowhere else that deserved that title, so maybe he was already there – in a clubhouse full of ghosts. And if Tig wasn't convinced by his half-hearted answer, it seemed he wasn't going to push it anyway, heading for the door after a searching look that suggested he knew exactly the score.

"Oh, hey," the curly-haired VP called back over his shoulder. "You seen the girl again?"

"What girl?" he replied, after a moment's hesitation.

Tig smirked. "Sure, we can play it that way, brother. But I'm just going on the record early as saying she'd sure as shit be a step up from a fucking cop. Even one with a nice rack. G'night."

"Night, Tiggy," Chibs sighed, firmly ignoring the shit-eating grin shot his way before his VP disappeared out the door and into the darkness with a wave. "Arsehole."

* * *

But the damage was done and Chibs' mind was drifting again, this time to the girl in question. Because, despite his admittedly piss-poor effort to disguise the fact, he knew exactly who Tig meant. Not that there was anything to hide, mind you. Their paths had crossed and, yeah, maybe there had been a spark of interest. After all, the last few months may have ripped his already battered heart out of his chest and stamped it into the ground, but he wasn't actually fucking dead - and any man would need to be for the wee stunner not to register on his radar.

That was all it was though, and all it was ever likely to be.

With a silky mane of chocolate and caramel hair and tight curves under her simple sweatpants and tank top, she was bloody gorgeous, and in a way few life-weary croweaters could match, young enough that he'd probably be mistaken for her father more often than not, and almost certainly too damn smart to get caught up with the likes of him in the first place.

Chibs touched a hand to the neat stitches above one eyebrow. Aye, as promised, the lass had done a fine job …

"Don't worry, you'll still be pretty," she'd smiled, threading the needle with a sure hand. "I'm sure you've heard … Chicks dig scars."

He'd raised an eyebrow, wincing as it pulled at the wound he'd picked up after being goaded into a return to the ring to show the young 'uns how it was done, only for the bollocks of a prospect to turn out to have forgotten to take his rings off. Chibs did allow himself a little pride that it had taken so long for anyone to twig, given that the glancing blow that had cut him had been the only one his opponent had come close to landing.

He hadn't been sure if he was supposed to read anything into her little comment though, spoken too lightly for it to be obvious if he was supposed to interpret it as a sign of interest. It was then that he'd first really noticed her clear green eyes though, as she moved in close, having to stand between his knees to see what she was doing. He barely felt the first prick of the needle, even though he'd casually waved away offers of numbing gel.

"So how's Seth managed to get himself a legit medic on the books?" Chibs had asked, curious over how the young woman he'd learned was a fully qualified paramedic had come to be in a boxing gym in the first place.

He'd thought she seemed to falter slightly at that, but it had been quickly swept under a smile and a shrug, leaving him to wonder if he had been mistaken.

"Long story. Guess it boils down to me just wanting to help my brother though."

"_Seth's_ your brother?"

He'd cast a sceptical look across the gym towards the blonde bearded hulk of a man who owned the joint, making her laugh and nod.

"It's not like we're twins."

"You got that right, pet," he'd grinned, enjoying the sparkle the laughter had brought to those eyes and almost sorry when she'd finally finished zipping the gash in his face up. "You must be glad he's back on the outside …"

That time he'd been sure she was thrown and he'd inwardly cursed his loose tongue for mentioning Seth Moore's lengthy stint in San Quentin, given the flash of pain on that pretty face. It was how the boxer-turned-gym owner had come to be on the Sons' radar - having largely refused to get involved in anyone's beef, but once stepping up to save the Rogue River sergeant from a nasty shank between the ribs – but Chibs hadn't fully considered how his incarceration may have affected those closest to him. It also flitted across his mind that he didn't actually know what Seth had done to end up in prison, although logic dictated that his kind of sentence didn't come from singing too loud in church …

In the meantime though, his sister had simply nodded as she busied herself with clearing away the swabs tinged red by his blood. "This place is a fresh start for him," she said softly, forcing a little smile back on her lips. "So we can't have guys bleeding over the floor, can we?"

"Suppose not," he'd mused. "Sorry, darlin'."

* * *

Draining the last of his whiskey, Chibs eyed the bottle left on the bar and then reached out to pour another before he could overthink it. Maybe it would help him sleep.

Nights were always the worst, away from the distractions afforded by day-to-day life and the best efforts of his brothers, trying as they were to keep each other sane. In the quiet darkness, it all threatened to close in on him. Every loss that had piled up at their door. Every fucking thing that had led them to this point.

His heart broke time and time again for Jax and for Tara, and for their boys left behind. Those little lads were better off well out of it. He was still loyal to his club, because he knew nothing else and because he had to hold fast to what was left and try to piece it back together, otherwise what the hell had it all been for? But he knew it was right for Abel and Thomas to start over with a clean slate.

With a pang, he wondered if they would even remember their uncles back in Charming. He loved those kids, they all did … He drank deeply at the memory of baby Tommy being passed into his waiting arms as Jax prepared to sacrifice himself for the greater good, having known that ending up behind bars at that time would probably have cost him his life.

Say what you liked about him, Chibs would always remember his young brother's willingness to put himself on the line before ever expecting anyone else to pay the price.

Jackson Teller would have met Mr Mayhem head on.

His ultimate course of action was never about escaping justice, only sparing his executioners. Sparing _him_.

Trying to make that mean something was the only thing keeping him going right now.

Chibs took the whiskey and thoughts of beautiful green eyes with him when he stumbled off the barstool and down the darkened hall to his room, realising as he kicked off his boots and sprawled back against the pillows that he didn't even know his little paramedic's name.

"Amateur," he could practically hear Jax laugh.

"Losing me touch, Jacky-boy," he agreed, saluting his memory with the bottle before downing another slug straight from the neck. "Sláinte*, my brother."

* * *

_*Sláinte - Irish and Scottish toast, like cheers. Literally 'health'._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Thanks loads to those reading, and especially those who took time to leave some feedback - always much appreciated! T x**

* * *

**Two**

It would take more than the better part of half a bottle of whiskey to put him out of action, but it still took dragging himself into a long hot shower to clear Chibs' head the next morning and let him summon the energy to head to the newly renovated garage.

The urge to call it TM was still strong, but while rebuilding and trying to strengthen their most legitimate source of income made sense, the Teller-Morrow name had been tainted beyond repair. Locals who hadn't had a problem giving them their business in the past, despite the club's reputation, had slowly but surely been driven away – first by the explosion that had nearly wiped them out and then, even when they first tried to start over, by … well, everything that had followed.

Both the Teller and the Morrow names had been an integral part of the fabric of Charming for so long. Knowing that they had been all but wiped out, and largely by each other's hands, was a distinctly uncomfortable notion, to say the least. The very least.

The remaining Sons could only try to retain some kind of foothold though. And they needed to work. Something legit, that let them earn and gave them a reason to congregate that didn't rattle law enforcement. They were also determined to continue down the path Jax had finally tried to set them on. They'd never be boy scouts, not with their collective records. But getting caught up with serious shit like cartels …

They had to put that firmly in the rear view.

Chibs finished buttoning his work shirt, trailing a fingertip over the name neatly embroidered above the pocket. Scoops and Sweets was gone too. Their temporary base was just surplus to requirements now they were back were they belonged, plus they'd needed the cash injection to fully restore the old clubhouse and garage. They'd voted and they'd been unanimous in wanting to have a proper home again and not feel relegated to hiding out in a goddamn ice-cream parlour.

No longer Teller-Morrow, but Sam's Yard.

Not that there was an actual Sam, just a nod to Samcro. It would take time for it to fully take hold after decades of what had gone before, but it made sense to adapt. Being mechanics was what they knew and they still had a fleet of their own bikes to service, albeit a somewhat depleted one.

But their most recent vote had backed a new initiative as well. SOS – Sam's Operational Security. Providing private security, mostly to bars, building sites, that type of shit. Not strictly legit, given that they hadn't exactly gone down the official paperwork route. But they were cheap and they got the job done. Besides, it was mostly about providing a deterrent to troublemakers, or banging a few heads when drunks got rowdy. Easy compared to some of the shit they'd been caught up with in their time.

And, while business was slow at first, it was there. Between running security details and fixing bikes and cars, they'd get by - as evidenced by Tig already having his head under the hood of a car before 7am, Chibs noted, marvelling a little that his right-hand man wasn't simply in the office with his feet kicked up on the desk, barking orders at prospects as usual.

"Morning, sunshine."

The banged head and flurry of colourful curses in response to his simple greeting made Chibs smirk. Looked like Tigger's early start didn't automatically mean he was firing on all cylinders yet.

"You don't normally grace us with your presence this early, brother …"

Tig shrugged, rolling his shoulder muscles as he straightened up fully and wiped his hands on a rag. "Promised Vee I'd be free for lunch – thought I'd get on top of some shit early."

"Trying to stay in Lyla's good books too, huh? Wonders will never cease."

"Can get enough grief at home without getting it here too," Tig groused, but with a grin that said his domestic arrangements weren't an entirely unwelcome change in circumstances.

Adapting was something they were all getting used to.

While Red Woody was still operational, Lyla had taken a step back from porn now the kids, hers and Opie's, were getting old enough to potentially come in for shit at school over her career, even if she had been mainly behind the camera instead of in front of it over the last while. She was still available in a consultancy capacity until the new manager found her feet, but day-to-day, she had her hands full running the business side of the garage, just like Gemma had.

Jesus, Gemma …

Memories of their former queen still felt like a dagger to the heart. She had been a mother-figure to them all, a confidante and source of strength when the shit hitting the fan in their personal lives threatened to spill over into club life. Oh, they knew she was not to be underestimated, like a she-wolf protecting her cubs. But the sheer bloody viciousness she had turned on her own daughter-in-law …

Gangland shit, Juice had told Jax.

And memories of Juice took their turn at twisting the knife, before Chibs could force them back into the darkest corners of his mind.

"You look like shit," Tig remarked, even as he turned his attention back to the task in hand. "Heavy night?"

"Not heavy enough," Chibs muttered. "And I hate to break it to ya, me boyo, but you ain't exactly gonna hang in a gallery yerself."

"Not what I hear, asshole. You gonna give me a hand or just stand there gassing?"

"Remind me who the boss is around here again?" Chibs demanded jokingly.

"Lyla," Tig shot back immediately. "Definitely Lyla."

* * *

"You're up early …" Seth Moore managed, trying to cover up a cavernous yawn as he strolled into his kitchen in just his sweatpants.

"Mm-hmm," came the non-committal response from his youngest sister, perched at the breakfast bar and barely glancing up from her laptop. She'd swept her long hair into a messy bun on the top of her head and had a pen stuck in it that she plucked back out to scribble down a note in the pad beside her. "We need to do a proper shop, but there's OJ if you want it."

He raised an eyebrow at that, sniffing the dregs in the coffee pot and deciding to chance it. "That what's dragged you out of bed at this hour? A shopping list?"

"What? Oh, this. Nah, couldn't sleep," she confessed, before quickly glossing over that like it was nothing. Which actually told him it was probably something. "I've had an idea. We should have a proper launch night. Like a fight night, but … bigger. Really put on a party, get all the locals in. Could be a great way to get noticed and win people over."

"Sounds … expensive," Seth said, scratching his beard and trying to consider the idea when all he could really focus on was wondering just how worried he should be about the girl in front of him. She was grown now, he knew that, but to him, she'd always be the baby of the family.

"See, I've thought of that and it doesn't have to be. I wanna check a few things out, but you trust me, right? Can I at least look into it? I promise I won't arrange anything without checking back in."

"Listen, Eden, it ain't that I don't appreciate it, but …"

"But what?"

"But …" He tried to bite his tongue, knowing he was probably just setting them on a collision course for another row, but it was no good. He had to say something. "You have a real job to get back to, kiddo. And helping me, I don't want that getting in the way."

"It's fine-"

"Is it?" he asked sharply, cutting her off. He was getting sick of hearing it was fine when it clearly wasn't. How long had she told him everything was fine, right before their lives went completely to shit and he ended up in that motherfucking jail? "Or is this a crutch to avoid having to think about getting your own life back on track?"

"If you don't want my help, Seth, you only have to say," she bit out, sweeping the notes she'd made into a messy bundle and slamming her laptop shut.

"Eden … Eden, wait! Shit …" he sighed, sinking down on a stool by the breakfast bar and leaning his forehead against the counter in despair at the sound of the front door slamming behind her. Well, that went well.

* * *

As soon as the door slammed behind her, Eden tilted her head back and heaved a sigh. _Shit._

She hated fighting with Seth, always had, but even more so after everything he had done for her. She couldn't bring herself to go back and face the music though, not when she knew he was at least partly right. Not that she was prepared to admit it to anyone other than herself.

Going back to work … Just the thought was enough to bring her out in a cold sweat, and realising that frustrated her more than she could say. She had loved it once. Loved her independence. Now, here she was, on the wrong side of thirty and dependent on her brother for somewhere to stay and for what little work he could give her. She hated that, hated that she was still a burden after everything.

What other option did she have though?

Even just stitching that guy's head had made her hands tremble until she summoned every ounce of willpower she had to make them stop. Although something about him had made it a little easier than it might otherwise have been – something in those brown eyes that had watched her every move as she prepared the needle. Warmth, maybe even trust. Chibs they'd all called him, although he'd introduced himself as Filip – in an accent that had also sparked an unexpected flutter of warmth …

She had more than enough on her plate without entertaining thoughts like that though, especially about – and oh yeah, she'd heard _all_ about the Sons of Anarchy in the loose talk around town – an older man with a chequered past who lived his life firmly on the outer fringes of the law.

She had to focus on at least starting to get her own life back. So it was either staying with Seth or living in terror, or – God forbid – moving in with her sister Melanie and her perfect husband and their perfect kids in their perfect Santa Monica home.

At least this way, she can try telling herself she's helping Seth get back on his feet. He is having to start over too. And that's _her_ fault. She knows he'd hate to hear her say that, but that doesn't make it any less true.

She should be trying to make it up to him. Not that she ever really could.

As the "baby" of the family, she had always been closest to her big brother. It killed her to know she had destroyed his life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Something I just wanted to mention, as it kinda came up in this chapter with a character I decided to include - I have a tendancy to melt my own head trying to get details as right as I can and I've discovered it's actually impossible to work out accurate ages for SOA characters. Mostly because using the kids as a marker really throws the whole thing off - Abel goes from baby to school child, but Thomas seems to never get much older than a baby! **

**So I guess what I'm saying is, when it does come up, I've taken liberties lol, but I've tried to keep it plausible. Therefore Charlie is twenty-one here, as I figured you'd have to be to prospect.**

* * *

**Three**

"Move yer fucking feet, ya wee gobshite," Chibs roared, wiping a hand over his face in frustration as he watched his supposed protégé from outside the ring. "Not like that! Jesus, lad, am I teaching you boxing or the bloody foxtrot?"

"I'm trying!" one of the club's two prospects lamented, breathing heavily as he too wiped a hand over his face, but in his case, it was to wipe sweat from his stinging eyes. And in the moment that his focus was distracted, his faux-opponent – Tig wielding training pads – clipped him squarely round the ear.

"Pay attention!" the VP barked, although the glint in his sharp blue eyes suggested he was enjoying participating in proceedings, maybe even a little too much.

"Ow!" the prospect yelped, only to get another clip round the other ear for his troubles. "Stop it!"

"Stop it? Stop it? That gonna be your approach if the club needs you to step up, cry for the big bad man to stop hurting you? Don't make me give you something to cry about," Tig warned darkly, before taunting him again with the pads while the helpless young man simply tried to cover up and protect himself from the blows.

"Mother o' Christ …" Chibs sighed in despair, climbing into the ring to confiscate the pads from his disappointed VP and rescue their prospect before they really did send him running for the hills. Because, as much as taking on the youngster had caused a serious stir within the club, they needed the numbers. And because, after everything, Chibs wasn't prepared to punish someone for the sins of their father.

There would be no more second chances for Kyle Hobart – but his son Charlie would not be turned away.

Not unless he royally fucked up his opportunity, and the jury was still out on that.

He reminded Chibs a little of Kip Epps. The Scotsman still couldn't decide if that went in his favour or not. It was hard to deal with those memories of the naïve young man who had gone on to earn his place and their respect. A little pocket-rocket in the ring, he'd been a sweet boy who had sometimes seemed like he'd never fully fit in their world, despite his unlikely military background. But they had under-estimated him. It was just a hell of a pity it had taken the bravery of his death trying to protect Tara and Abel to prove that.

Charlie had yet to prove himself, in the ring or out of it. But he wasn't without promise. He was keen to impress, although sometimes a little too keen – maybe as a result of trying to shake off his father's legacy – and he'd jumped at the chance to train with Chibs when the club had started frequenting the Scrapyard Boxing Gym, given that they hadn't yet stretched to fully kitting out their refurbished clubhouse in that respect.

Chibs himself had been reluctant to serve as anyone's sponsor though. Of the three prospects he had sponsored in Charming – Juice, Jax and Kip – all three were now dead. Not exactly a great track record.

But no one else would take on Charlie and he wanted to give the boy a chance after hearing him out.

"I'm NOT my dad," Charlie had all but seethed, a fist clenched, during their first proper meeting in the office of the garage. It had been a glimpse of the steel Chibs would otherwise have doubted the young man had.

Now, he reached out to ruffle his messy brown hair – as he would have Kip's fair curls – and then stopped himself, slapping him on the shoulder instead. They weren't there yet. "Go get cleaned up."

Rolling his eyes as Tig smacked the exhausted prospect on the ass to get him moving, Chibs was left by himself in the centre of the ring, wondering – not for the first time – if he was mad to be trying to hold things together like this. Did he really want to start another cycle of the club that had become so steeped in toxicity, its ideals twisted almost beyond recognition? Maybe they should have let Samcro die with Jax, let the Teller legacy truly come full circle …

"You'll get there."

The reluctant president looked up at the intrusion on his restless thoughts and spotted the gym's burly owner by the door of his office, a meaty shoulder cocked against the frame.

"The kid," Seth added, by way of explanation. "It'll come. He's not a lost cause."

"I hope you're right, mate," Chibs muttered.

"Well, I was purely talking as a boxer, but I get the feeling you had the bigger picture in mind."

"Prospecting ain't for everyone."

"I'll bet. Club's had it rough these last few years."

"Ain't ever had it too easy," Chibs sighed, climbing out of the ring and jumping easily down from the apron to join his unexpected companion. "But you ain't exactly had the smoothest ride yerself, way I hear it …"

"That your way of finally getting round to sussing me out, man?" Seth asked wryly.

"Knox says you're sound," came the shrug and a reference to Seth's acquaintance with Rogue River's sergeant during their incarceration. "Good enough for me. Although the details are hazy and I find it pays to know what's what, if ya catch my drift."

"Oh, I do. And believe me when I say I've had less tactful enquiries. I ain't been into anything that'd blow back on your club from being associated. I got banged up for attempted murder. Charge got downgraded to aggravated assault on appeal."

"You gonna tell me you're an innocent man, that they got the wrong bloke?"

"No," Seth said evenly. "I did it. And I'd do it again."

"You would, huh? Maybe don't mention that part in polite company. So what was it? Business gone bad? Some old rivalry from your ring days?"

Seth's face hardened, his fists clenching involuntarily at the memory. "Bastard hurt my sister."

"Your sister? The wee paramedic?"

A nod was all Chibs got. "The rest ain't my story to tell, man."

The Samcro president nodded like he understood, and he did, but he couldn't deny he was definitely intrigued.

* * *

"Speak of the devil …" Seth broke off, spotting his sister walking in from the street with two take-away coffees – a peace offering, no doubt, even though she hadn't been at fault. "Hey, you good?"

She nodded sheepishly. "Sorry about earlier. Guess lack of sleep makes me kind of a bitch. Brought you a latte though – didn't realise we had company …"

"Actually," Seth started, seeing a chance to make up for his part in their earlier row. "I'm behind with getting a shitload of paperwork sorted, so why don't you give mine to Chibs here? You could tell him about your idea …"

Chibs watched as the young woman's eyes lit up and she rounded on him, pushing a steaming cardboard cup of coffee into his hand before he had a chance to respond. "You've got five minutes, right?" she demanded, without waiting for an answer. "Come on, we can go out to the yard and leave Seth to it. Come on!"

He wasn't hard to persuade.

"How's the war wound, by the way?" she asked over her shoulder, leading the way out through a heavy fire door and into a small enclosed yard full of potted trees and cacti and other assorted plants.

"Grand," he replied, as she perched on top of an old wooden picnic table and he took a seat beside her. "Ya did a fine job, lass."

"Whew," she smiled. "Good to know I'm not already on the back foot when I'm looking to ask a favour."

"A favour?" Now he was definitely intrigued, though he tried not to show it, fishing in the pocket of his cut for his smokes and a lighter. "Mind if I …?"

She shook her head, giving him the green light to spark up and he took a long drag before considering her curiously, a slight smile on his lips.

"What kind o' favour?"

* * *

"So I've signed Charlie-Boy up for fight night," Chibs finished, looking round the table at the collected Sons gathered for church.

Tig's eyebrows shot up into his curly hair. "_Charlie?!_" he spluttered, before shock turned to laughter. "Oh, I get it – good one, you nearly had me there!"

"I'm deadly serious, my brother. It'll be good for the lad. Bit o' healthy competition and all that. Better than you slapping him round the head all day."

"I hit him with _love_," Tig explained patiently. "Put him in the ring for real and we're gonna be picking the kid's teeth out of the mat. He ain't ready."

"Well, he's got three weeks to get ready. Cos it's happening. I've already promised Eden."

"Eden? Who the fuck's … Ah. _Now_ it all falls into place. You dirty old bastard."

Chibs feigned outrage. "Bit fucking harsh, Tigger. Less of the old. And my motives are pure, I'll have you know."

"Pure filth," Tig retorted, leaning back in his chair with a knowing grin. "Rather you than me, buddy – not that she's not a tight little piece of ass, but her brother's built like a brick shithouse and he _literally_ just told you he did jail over the last guy to fuck with his sister!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let's all hold on here a minute," TO Cross spoke up from where he'd been watching the exchange with amusement. "You tellin' me we're making club decisions with our dicks now?"

"Hey, I know _my_ dick has never failed me," Tig objected.

"Really?" Chibs countered. "Let's count the ways …"

"Irrelevant," the VP said, dismissing him with a casual wave of his hand. "It's not _my_ dick making this decision, it's _yours_ – and seeing as the last known place you stuck it was in law enforcement, I don't think you're in any position to judge, Pres."

Chibs pointed a warning finger at Tig, growing exasperated by his teasing. "Shut yer face. That's an order. Now, no one's dick is getting stuck anywhere. Not at the boxing anyway. This is a smart move for Samcro. We ain't in a position yet to be back doing toy runs and shite like we used to, but this, this we can do. Seth's gonna use the fight night to relaunch the gym and he's said he'll make a donation to the hospital as well. So Samcro positions itself back at the heart of the community by being involved – supporting local business _and_ a good cause."

"Tara would like that we're helping the hospital," came a gruff voice. "Jax too, after Abel."

An unexpected glimpse of Happy's rare softer side never failed to catch them all off-guard and they all stared in his direction as they considered that addition to the argument.

Chibs recovered first, clearing his throat as he nodded. "Aye, that they would. So how about it, Hap? You fancy joining Charlie in signing up? Mind you, it's proper boxing – you're not getting in that ring to try to kill anyone."

Their enforcer looked almost disappointed for a second, but then he nodded. "I'm in."

The president grinned. "Then we vote. All in favour of Happy and Charlie representing Samcro at the Scrapyard, say aye."

"Aye!" came the almost unanimous chorus.

Chibs looked at Tig. "I'll let you keep helping with training."

The VP smiled dangerously. "Can I be the one to tell Charlie?"

The Scotsman nodded, before throwing caution to the wind as far as the good-natured abuse he was opening himself up to from his brothers was concerned. "As long as I can be the one to tell Eden …"

It had been a long time since the clubhouse had heard laughter like that ring through it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Four**

Seth had to hand it to his sister – when she set her mind to something, she was a force to be reckoned with. Slowly but surely, he'd gone from not getting his hopes up about his relaunch night, to actually feeling excited about it. And now, for the first time in a long time, it felt like things were actually falling into place for him.

Organising the fight night that was now just days away had required a helluva lot of work and cost him a little bit of cash, but it looked like he was still going to come out on top. Sure, some of it wasn't strictly above board, but it wasn't anything to be worried about – not even with his record. It was just the kind of wrong side of legit that you could get away with in a little town like Charming and no one would bat an eyelid. Not even law enforcement. Especially since the newest sheriff had decided to actually learn from his predecessors and not meddle in anything that might only cause further aggravation. Live and let live seemed to be Jerry Collins' motto, and no one was going to argue with that.

Chances were, when it came to fight night, he'd actually be hollering on the competitors from ring-side.

It was turning out to be a right little earner too. Seth was making money in membership for those training at his gym, and had attracted new customers out of those wanting to enter the tournament, as well as bagging fight night entry fees. Plus he'd allowed a book to be opened, giving him a cut of any profits. And he'd set up a makeshift bar selling booze he'd managed to get a heavy discount on.

All in all, he reckoned he could comfortably offer up a decent cash prize to the winner and make a not insignificant donation to St Thomas, all while still turning a tidy profit – hopefully taking himself a step further from ex-con and one closer to respectable citizen in the eyes of the locals.

His sister was a goddam genius.

Deciding to tell her so, he looked around the gym, catching sight of her outside the ring, up on the apron and leaning on the ropes as she watched a training session.

It was Samcro in the ring – that kid who was still on trial with the club and the dangerous looking bald one, plus Chibs and Tig shouting orders.

"Maybe this is a … a mistake …" the younger one was panting, both he and his opponent sweating profusely, although only one of them looked like he wasn't enjoying it.

"A mistake?" Chibs yelled angrily. "You think me backing your scrawny arse is a _mistake_? That's not a narrative you want to be peddlin', boyo, all things considered!"

"Yeah, less bitching and more fighting," Tig chipped in impatiently. "Hit him, Happy."

A huge fist caught the kid square in the face, having lashed out with snake-like speed and he yelped in agony as he hit the mat like a crumpled sack of shit. "My eye!" he wailed. "I wasn't ready!"

"He wasn't ready," Tig told Happy, in a pseudo-telling off.

"Sorry," Happy said, looking anything but.

"I can't _see_!" the kid wailed again, sending Chibs into a stream of thickly accented curses.

Eden grabbed her bag and ducked under the ropes, jogging lightly across the ring to kneel beside the stricken prospect who had his face buried in his gloves and was rocking in pain.

"Don't go fussing over him - he'll be fine, doll," Tig interjected. "Come on, you, get up and walk it off."

"I can't walk my _eye_ off," Charlie mumbled, in too much pain to even realise he was talking back to a superior, jumping at the hand that touched his shoulder as if expecting fresh violence against him even now.

"Easy, Charlie," Eden soothed, having already treated the young man for multiple minor injuries inflicted in the course of his training. "It's only me. Let me take a look."

Gently, she pried his gloved hands away from his face and tilted his head up, flinching herself at the sight of the mess. One eye was already swollen shut and turning black where blood was pooling under the skin, and the other one didn't actually look too great either. "Holy shit …"

"Oh god, is it bad? Am I blind?" the prospect panicked, trying to get up.

"No, no, no, don't worry," she said quickly. "Don't get up just yet. I'm going to get you fixed up."

"I can't see-"

"I know," Eden said, patting his arm gently. "I know, but it's okay. Your eye's just very swollen and you've probably got sweat and a bit of blood in it. Try to relax for me … Seth?"

"Problem?" he called from across the gym.

"Can you get me some ice?"

"On it."

* * *

"So, what's the verdict?"

"I'm really sorry … I just don't think he's realistically going to be able to fight. It's too big a risk. His eye's still so swollen and, one punch to the face, there's gonna be blood everywhere. The ref'll have to stop it. Seth isn't going to let someone get seriously injured in his gym. I'm sorry, Filip."

Part of Chibs, having thrown himself into the idea of this bloody fight night as a distraction as much as anything else, was raging that it had now been thrown into disarray. But the sound of his name on Eden's lips and the concerned look on her face went a long way towards making him swallow that frustration down.

"Not your fault, love," he sighed. "Shite happens. We knew the kid was a gamble anyway when we stumped up the entry fee. Guess I just thought if we were gonna throw our money away, we'd at least get him in the goddamn ring …"

"Seth's really sorry he can't give you your money back, but he'd put it out there that there were no refunds, so he says other guys'll go nuts if they think you got special treatment – especially the guys from rival gyms."

"I know. He's already said we can put in a replacement fighter and get our money's worth that way, but it's looking like it's just too short notice."

"I'm sorry."

"So you said," he smiled, touching a knuckle to her chin. "Cheer up, pet – it ain't the end o' the world."

"I think it feels like it for poor Charlie. Go easy on him, yeah?"

Chibs snorted. "He's a wee eejit, but it's not like it was his fault. Hap's put better men than him down."

"So maybe tell him that," Eden suggested. "He thinks you all hate him. I better go see if anyone else needs me. Catch you later."

Watching her go, Chibs found himself tilting his head to better admire her ass and then caught himself guiltily, shaking off the less than chaste thoughts in his mind to reluctantly go and check up on his prospect. He wasn't hard to find, back in his street clothes, but still slumped on a bench in the gym's locker room with his decidedly battered head in his also battered hands. The boy looked the picture of misery and even Chibs had to take pity on him, not that he was necessarily planning on showing it.

He heaved a sigh and sat down heavily beside the younger man. "What's this I hear about you cryin' on Eden's shoulder?" he demanded.

"I wasn't crying," came the sulky mumble, but there was no trace of fire in it.

"You think she wants to listen to you boohooing all evening? Pick what's left o' yer face up and come on, let's get off home."

Charlie looked up at that, making his president wince when he caught sight of the damage. Between all the training over the last three weeks and the latest blow Happy had inflicted, the kid really was a mess. It'd be a while before they'd be getting back to aiming their usual _pretty boy_ jibes at him.

"Home? I can still stay? At the clubhouse?"

Realisation dawned on Chibs and he inwardly cursed himself for not catching on quicker. He was capable of many things, but cruelty for the sheer sake of it wasn't in his nature. Messing with the lad was one thing, but he knew all too well where real mental anguish could lead.

"Jesus, lad, we ain't gonna kick you out over missing one fight," he told him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and giving him a companionable squeeze, before realising he was probably only causing him more discomfort. Some of those earlier body shots had been pretty brutal.

"This was my chance to prove myself," Charlie said quietly. "I … I want this so bad, Chibs. I don't want to fuck up. Like my dad."

"Hey, you listen to me," Chibs said firmly. "If we're hard on you, it's because we're hard on everyone, yeah? We gotta be or this life'll chew ya up and spit ya out. But I promised you the club would give you a fair trial and that's what you'll get - or I'll hear the reason why. You gotta put all that shite wi' yer da in the past. We have."

"Really?"

"Really. Make it through your year, and there ain't no reason you can't be Samcro. You got plenty to offer when you put your mind to it, kid."

Charlie sat up a little straighter, trying not to wince as he did so, wiping his hands over his swollen face and nodding, new determination seeming to creep through him.

"I'm going to show you, Chibs. You, Tig, Happy, all of you," he said fiercely. "I'm going to get back in the ring, I'm going to be a boxer, I'm going to be Samcro."

"That's the spirit!" Chibs enthused, slapping him on the back.

"Hey, Eden's been so nice to me while I've been training, patching me up and stuff … She's really hot, like _really_ hot. Do you think I-"

"I wouldn't push yer fuckin' luck, son."

* * *

Seeing Chibs and Charlie heading home, the Sons of Anarchy president actually relenting enough to carry the younger man's kit bag for him, slung easily over his shoulder, Eden caught up with them by the front door. "Hey, you guys need a lift back or anything?"

"We're good, sweetheart," Chibs smiled. "Dumb's bringing the van to pick up Dumber here. Our other prospect? We call him Wheels. Training Wheels, if we're giving him a hard time. Actually, he's probably already parked up – off ya go, lad, while I have a word wi' your saviour here."

They watched as he limped off, before turning to each other expectantly.

"Listen, love," Chibs started. "I just wanted to say thanks. Patching the boy up. Putting a word in for him. You were right – he weren't in a great place and I shoulda seen it. Might seem like we're sore on him, but he's one of us and we take care of our own. Just do me a favour and don't tell him. He's still gotta earn that patch."

"I get it," Eden said with a little nod. And somehow, looking up into those warm brown eyes, she actually did. She knew the Sons' ruthless reputations just like the rest of the town did, but she trusted Chibs to take care of his young charge. "Tough love, huh?"

"Something like that," he grinned. "So we're havin' a bit o' a get-together at the clubhouse tomorrow night – some o' the lads from out o' town are planning to come and support us at yer fight night, so they'll start arriving and expecting a party."

"Most people get a decent meal and a good night's rest before a big fight," the paramedic pointed out.

"Aye, we're not exactly most people," Chibs laughed. "You should come. To the clubhouse. Bring yer brother, or I dunno, couple o' mates. We ain't exactly got a strict door policy. Not for our friends anyway."

"Uh, I'll … see if I can make it," she managed, thrown by the unexpected invite and getting a little shrug in response to her stammered reply.

"No pressure. Any time after, like, seven? Only if ya fancy it," Chibs said, leaning down to give her a little peck on the cheek, his beard surprisingly soft against her skin. "Be good to see ya when you ain't stitching one o' us up … Later, darlin'."

"Bye, Filip," Eden said softly, watching from the door as he strolled towards the van and climbed into the front passenger seat, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip as the path her mind had drifted towards made her flush. "Damn … Seth's gonna lock me up."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five**

Now, this was how things were supposed to be.

Music blaring, glasses clinking, club family and friends talking and laughing in their packed-out headquarters, the party even spilling out into the yard, where fires blazed in disused oil drums. Word of a party had gotten out, so they'd decided to deliver, hoping Seth wouldn't think they were trying to steal his thunder. It'd be a pretty poor fucking show, in their minds, if people couldn't let loose two nights running. It was the weekend after all, and Friday nights with Samcro had once been legendary.

This wasn't quite like their heyday, but it was as close as it had been in a while. Sons from visiting charters, hang-arounds, croweaters, all just focused on having a helluva good time.

Chibs smiled sadly to himself from his place by the bar and clinked his glass against the bottle of whiskey in a toast of sorts. "Cryin' shame yer missing this, Jackson …"

But he forced himself to push aside memories of those they had lost. Tonight wasn't the time for maudlin thoughts. Not when they were all actually enjoying themselves for a change. Even Charlie was lapping up the attention as some sweetbutt cooed over his injuries. Chibs saw the moment Tig spotted that too and recognised the devilish look that crossed his face, catching his eye and warning him off with a little shake of his head. Let the boy have his moment.

Tig huffed an exaggerated sigh of disappointment and turned on his heel, only to come face-to-face with not one, but two busty redheads. His eyes lit up excitedly and he slung an arm around each of them, to giggles and throaty purrs of encouragement. That was his entertainment taken care of after all.

Chibs cast another look around the crowd, presiding over his kingdom he supposed. That's what Jax would have done. Or Clay. He still didn't quite feel it yet though, beyond the weight of responsibility that would crush him if he let it. But beyond that, his new role still hadn't quite sunk in, even after all the months that had passed since he'd been forced to take over the gavel.

Lyla extracted herself from a gaggle of her former Red Woody colleagues and came to join him, weaving her way on impossibly high heels through the bustle of what passed for a dancefloor and finally pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I might be _slightly_ tipsy," she giggled, trying to straighten her skin-tight dress. "It's okay though, the kids are with my mom."

"You deserve a night off," Chibs said warmly. He was fond of Lyla, appreciated everything she had done to stand by the club, even after Opie was gone. He knew it worked both ways and they were a source of both income and protection for her, but they could have parted ways and yet they hadn't. She had chosen to stay, when none of them would have blamed her for running a mile. "Enjoy yerself, sweetheart. You're coming tomorrow, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it," she nodded, running her fingers through her loose blonde waves. "Got money on Hap."

"Smart girl," he grinned. "What ya drinkin'?"

"I could handle more tequila," she said, after a moment's consideration and with a coy little smile that made her look even younger than she was. "If you shoot some with me."

"You tryin' ta lead an aul' man astray, missy?"

"Too late for that, I'd say," she winked.

She was probably right.

* * *

Seth had called in for a couple of beers, but Saturday was going to be huge for him and he couldn't deal with a hangover on top of all that, so he'd bounced early – leaving Eden with his part-time receptionist Lisa and a warning they'd both be needed the next day, so on their own heads be it if they were suffering.

With that in mind, Eden at least was nursing only her third beer of the night as she listened to Lisa – a former regular round the clubhouse – lament the absence of past patches. "Such a goddamn waste," she slurred, sipping yet more gin that Eden could only assume had barely seen tonic water. "I mean, I know Jax was always off limits while Tara was around, but ugh … He was a beautiful, beautiful man … Never did get the chance to find out if he could back that up between the sheets … Kozik though, now that's another story – I wonder where the hell he went? With these guys, ya don't like to ask questions …"

The last thing Eden wanted was to be a killjoy, but neither did she fancy the inevitable night of holding the blonde's hair while she puked if she carried on at her current pace. "Do you think maybe you should … slow down, Lise? Like, just a little. I mean, a night out's a marathon, not a sprint, right?"

"Mmm, maybe," came the vague response.

"Hey, we could dance for a bit?" Eden tried hopefully. She'd been expecting a lot of heavy-drinking bikers, but she hadn't been prepared for a night at the clubhouse to actually be … _fun_. And it looked like everyone on the dancefloor was definitely enjoying cutting loose. She hadn't actually had a proper night-out since before … Well, she didn't want to think about that.

In fact, when Seth had asked if she was sure she wanted to go and then if she was sure she didn't mind him leaving, she'd forced herself to dismiss his concerns more easily than came naturally. It was hard, but she was having a good time – despite not having caught up to Lisa's standards of drunkenness.

She hadn't spoken to Chibs yet either, despite meaning to at least go and say hello. It only seemed polite, given that he was the one who had invited them, or that was what she was telling herself anyway. But anytime she spotted him, he seemed caught up with other people – talking loudly with his brothers, the conversations punctuated with roars of laughter and back-slapping hugs. She couldn't help smiling to see him so obviously in his element.

Seeing him end up on the dancefloor was a surprise though, pulled there despite his seemingly half-hearted protests by a laughing slender blonde in a skin-tight pink dress, who shrieked and giggled as he gave in and twirled her suddenly while she tried to find her balance on her stilettos.

The smile on Eden's face felt strangely frozen.

* * *

"You could give a girl a complex, Mr Telford …" Lyla teased, having to practically shout in his ear to be heard over the thumping Celtic-influenced rock music someone had found, no doubt thinking it might please him.

"What?" he shouted back, confused by what he thought he'd heard.

"Checking out other women. Actually, no, not women plural – just the one," Lyla smirked. "Oh, please, don't play dumb, Chibs. You've danced with me, you've danced with Hollie, Jade, even Tig when he tried to grope you or whatever the hell he was doing, but you've only got eyes for one person. The chick sitting with the wasted blonde – don't pretend you don't know who I mean. The brunette one who's a bit girl-next-door, if your neighbour happened to be a Victoria's Secret model or some shit. Ugh, she's gorgeous – why is she wearing jeans? Although leather skinnies, I bet her ass looks fucking _fantastic_ in them … What? Women can appreciate other women – we're not all bitches," she added, slapping his chest in reprimand as if he had suggested they were, instead of just gaping at her slightly stunned by her hundred-miles-an-hour commentary. "Are you gonna go over there?"

"Uh, no!" he declared firmly, swigging down the rest of the pint in the hand that wasn't snaked companionably around her waist. "I mean, I was maybe thinking about it. But hell no, not now you've made me paranoid I've been staring at the poor lass all night like some sorta fuckin' pervert."

"_Chibs!_" Lyla groaned, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. "You can't just leave her sat there ... Oh, I _love_ this song! I'm gonna go get her – and I'm taking the tequila …"

"What? No! Lyla … Jesus fuckin' Christ …" he groaned, suddenly realising exactly how she must have run rings around Opie.

Bloody women.

* * *

If there was one thing Lyla could handle, it was her drink – she could get pretty buzzed, but still stay sharp. And she was already sharper than most people gave her credit for, which wasn't always nice, but at least it gave her an edge they didn't expect. Chibs didn't usually underestimate her though. Not in the ways that mattered – he trusted her to keep her shit in check, raise the kids right, and to run the business side of the club's garage. And he'd always been kind to her, so she had a soft spot for him as not quite a father-figure, but close. A crazy uncle maybe. One who'd have your back and keep you from going off the rails, but turn a blind eye to the occasional spliff or two … Or the better part of half a bottle of tequila.

It had been easy to lean in as if to hug him and then snatch up the bottle from where it sat on the bar just behind him, and the accompanying glass full of lemon slices, giggling as she trotted off on her impromptu mission despite his protests. She didn't know why he was worried. Sure, the chick he seemed to have on his radar was a little young and she was definitely beautiful, something that stood out all the more given her low-key style - but Lyla had been around the clubhouse long enough to know rough-around-the edges Chibs, with his vicious scars and kind eyes and a silver tongue croweaters reported he definitely knew how to use, had always been considered a catch.

"Hi!" she said brightly, plonking herself down on a free chair at the girl's table and setting the bottle on it expectantly. "Tequila?"

"Uh, I dunno if I should …"

"Oh, come on, live dangerously," Lyla smiled, reaching into the tiny zippered purse she wore on a long delicate strap across her body to produce a salt shaker. "What?" she shrugged, in response to the quirked eyebrow. "People kept stealing it and you can't slam tequila without salt. Here, give me your hand …"

Without waiting for a response, Lyla grabbed her new friend's hand, pulled it across the table and shook salt into the hollow of her thumb. Then winked at her, licked it herself and downed a shot straight from the neck of the bottle, before popping a slice of lemon in her mouth. Shivering at the bitter, sour taste explosion, she threw back her head and laughed. "Your face! Come on, tell me that's not a great way to introduce yourself? I'm Lyla. Sorry, I've got three kids – I don't get out as much as I used to."

"You've got three kids?!" Eden exclaimed, looking from her youthful face to her slender figure. "What did you do? Grow them in a plant pot?"

Lyla dissolved into giggles again. "You're so sweet, uh …"

"Eden. Eden Moore, Seth's sister."

"Well, Eden Moore, Seth's sister, you're sweet. I think you're gonna be Eden Moore, Lyla's friend, okay? Now, your turn for tequila …" Lyla grinned, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Where d'ya want the salt?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Six**

Three tequilas later, or maybe it was four, and Lyla was smirking triumphantly at Chibs as she pulled Eden onto the dancefloor and he watched from where he was stood leaning against the bar. Lisa didn't seem to mind being left behind, since she'd long since been distracted by a couple of the visiting Samdino crew who had rocked up late, or early depending on how you looked at it, considering they'd said they weren't coming until the next evening, just before the big fight night.

As it was, Friday night's party was definitely in full flow, even if – at nearly 1am – it was technically no longer Friday. Lyla, well and truly buzzed now, was back in her old party girl mode, dancing like there wasn't another soul in the room – well, except Eden, and maybe Chibs as she occasionally thought to check if he was still watching. And of course he was, it'd be impossible not to, all things considered.

Eden, probably starting to feel the effects of the shots, had let her hair down too. Not literally, since it was twisted into a high messy bun, loose tendrils falling around her face, but definitely figuratively as she now danced with Lyla like they'd known each other all their lives – or at least met on the set of some soft porn shoot, Chibs thought idly. Until he realised what a dangerous train of thought that was in a public place.

Fucking hell, what was Lyla doing? From the way she was grinding up on their pretty visitor, if he didn't know better, he'd say she was trying to steal the damn girl for herself. Except he did know better and her little knowing glances told him exactly the truth of the matter – that the devious little former porn star was just giving him a taste of what he was missing.

It certainly made for a helluva show, he had to give her that.

Eden was, as accurately predicted by her new friend and dance partner, wearing black leather jeans that made her ass look incredible, heels that were no less high for not quite matching Lyla's towering strappy sandals, and a silver halterneck that made up for its initially disappointing lack of exposed cleavage by proving entirely backless and revealing way more lightly tanned skin than Chibs had expected to see from her that night.

The first chords of Alice Cooper's Poison hit and both women shrieked in delight, singing along as they danced together, utterly oblivious to the lust-filled looks they were drawing from more than one quarter.

"Oi, tongues back in, boys," Chibs growled, clocking Wheels and a couple of hang-arounds practically drooling over the bar they were supposed to be working.

"I got no idea why Lyla stopped doing porn, man," Wheels muttered to the others, starting to clear empty glasses and bottles from the counter again. "Bitch is still fine as fuck …"

With difficulty, Chibs restrained himself to a sharply raised eyebrow at overhearing Opie's widow referred to in such a way and leaned in to coolly set the record straight. "Because, sunshine, she decided she'd be better off running the garage and wearing little prospects' balls as earrings when they get too big for their bloody boots. Now, you shutting that mouth or am I adding to her jewellery collection?"

Wheels shook his head frantically, flustered at having been overheard by the president and even more mortified to be called on it in front of the hang-arounds he'd been trying to impress. "S-sorry, boss."

"Aye, that's what I thought."

* * *

"Hey, Chibs, you got a sec?" their new intelligence officer Ryan 'Bug' Hopewell – a recent transfer from Vegas and a decent pick-up, in his late thirties, with years of experience as a patch and plenty of smarts – asked, looking reluctant to disturb his president.

"Problem?" Chibs demanded, hoping not, but having quickly learned it was better to nip shit in the bud before it really bloomed into a clusterfuck. So party or not, if there was a problem, he wanted to know about it.

"Hear me out, 'cause I know how it sounds," Bug grimaced, brandishing his personal phone rather than one of the disposable burners they kept strictly for club business that needed to stay on the down-low. "Facebook …"

"_Facebook?_" Chibs echoed. "Bleedin' hell, man, we're outlaws – not fucking frat boys!"

"I know, I know. Just take a look though. One of the sweetbutts flagged it – comment on the event page for the fight night. Someone claiming the Sons are gonna get, and I quote, 'owned'."

"Have folk nothin' better to do than run their mouths hiding behind a keyboard?" Chibs snorted. "Don't be wasting yer time worrying about-"

"Chibs, it's signed WB MC and with a '1%' added," Bug said.

That made the president take notice and actually glance at what was on the screen being held in front of him.

"Claiming to be from another MC?" he mused, a frown knitting his brows. "No true one-percenter's gonna be dicking around admitting it online … Could just be some kid playing Billy Big-Balls …"

"WB mean anything to you?"

"Aye, there is one thing springs to mind," Chibs admitted. "The War Boys. But they went to the wall years ago – fell foul of ATF and the club just crumbled under the pressure. They were a bunch o' military vets like our First Nine though. Ain't none o' them gonna be playing silly beggars on fucking Facebook."

"New generation looking for a revival?" Bug suggested.

"Guess we're gonna find out …"

* * *

Forcing himself to put the unexpected message out of his mind, Chibs ended up sinking a few more shots by the bar as the party raged on around him – and Lyla made her final move.

The music shifted into that Celtic influenced rock again, the girls drifting closer on the dancefloor even as the smiling blonde fanned herself and huffed out a breath.

"Whew, it's hot in here – I need some air," she shouted in Eden's ear over the din. "And I don't know this one anyway. No, no, you stay – here, sounds like Chibs' sort of thing …"

And with that, she winked at him and pushed the startled girl into his arms. "Oops. Back in a bit …"

"Sorry," Eden tried, her hands on his chest to steady herself. "She's, uh, not exactly subtle."

"That's porn stars for ya," Chibs said wryly, inadvertently sending their guest's eyebrows shooting up.

"Lyla's a porn star?!"

"Retired. Mostly," he clarified.

"Wow, did not see that coming. Which, I guess, is ironic …" Eden noted, making him chuckle heartily at the unexpected inuendo.

Across the clubhouse, as the Dropkick Murphys belted out Rose Tattoo, the Rogue River sergeant elbowed Tig none too gently in the ribs. "You seeing this shit, man?"

The VP grinned broadly at the sight of his president finally twirling the broad he'd been eye-fucking all night on the dancefloor, as she laughed and clung to him for balance, one hand on his shoulder and the other caught in his, while his arm curled around her waist to hold her tight. "That's my boy," Tig declared proudly. "Taught him everything he knows."

"Just hopefully not everything you know, you sick fuck," Knox noted, only half joking.

* * *

"Oi, watch yersel', ye dopey bastard!"

Some clumsy fuck bumped into the girl from behind, pushing her tight up against Chibs and he shoved the offending culprit out of the way, even as he steadied Eden on her feet. She only laughed though, both arms wrapping around his neck to anchor herself to him. Jesus Christ, between this and her and Lyla's little display earlier, it was a miracle he hadn't had a heart attack right in the middle of the bloody clubhouse.

"You okay?" he mouthed, knowing there was little chance of her actually hearing him over the thump of the music. But she nodded and he smiled down at her, his fingers trailing lightly over the smooth bare skin of her back. It was enough to put him in mind of what it might be like to do the same in the comfort of his bed, with her laid in post-coital bliss on his chest, and he almost groaned out loud as he tried to shake off that image.

His gaze flickered from her green eyes to those soft, tantalising lips.

Fuck. The urge to make a move on her was almost overwhelming. And he could practically hear Lyla's thoughts on the matter - having returned from her brief sojourn outside to try to make her wafer-thin excuse to leave them alone look even the tiniest bit legit – no doubt inwardly urging him on, like some kind of one-woman cheer squad. And Tig would no doubt back her up.

But he couldn't, could he?

He wanted to, he really did. But even if she wasn't Seth's sister, she wasn't some sweetbutt, some damn croweater to be passed around for a casual fuck and then forgotten.

This right here was torture though. Exquisite torture, but torture all the same. He couldn't drag it out any longer - whatever decision he was going to make, it had to be now. Before the song ended, and it was already building to a crescendo. He could pull her close, or …

He spun her again, one hand held firmly in his as she twirled in front of him, making her gasp when he suddenly pulled her in tight again and for a moment, their lips were almost touching and he could feel the warmth of her breath …

"Uh, boss?"

"Not now, ya wee ballix," Chibs hissed at Wheels out of the corner of his mouth.

"But, boss-"

"Christ's sake, laddie, can ya no see I'm busy?"

"Sorry," the prospect shrugged, already starting to walk away. "I just thought you'd want to know if Happy and one of the nomads were beating the shit out of each other in the yard, what with the fight and-"

"WHAT?! Ah, fer fuck's sake …" Chibs sighed, raising Eden's hand to graze a light kiss against her knuckles. "Sorry, darlin'," he said ruefully, before turning his focus firmly back to the club. "Why didn't ya tell me sooner?" he demanded of the sulky prospect. "You couldn't just break that shite up?"

"I ain't getting in the middle of that. Do I look stupid?"

"Don't make me answer that."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thanks to those still reading - do feel free to let me know what you think! :)**

* * *

**Seven**

By three in the morning, Chibs was sprawled on his back on top of one of the picnic tables outside in the comparatively cool night air, looking up at the stars and assessing the evening's events.

At some point, he'd loosened the thin gray scarf knotted around his neck and his shirt was more than half unbuttoned, his once neatly slicked back hair a dishevelled mess. He and TO had been forced to drag Happy out of a brawl that had apparently started over some dig about his mom, while a cat-fight over Christ knows what had raised merry hell inside. The latter had only ended when Lyla's successor in the director's chair at Red Woody – a platinum blonde with a short fuse called Felicity, who still went by her screen name 'Flick' Devine - had nailed a croweater with an impressive right hook to the face and trailed two of her girls out by their cheap extensions.

It was no big deal, not even close in the face of all the clusterfucks they had faced as a club in their time, just more evidence of all the day-to-day shit they looked to him to somehow keep in check. He'd never thought that would be his role. Had assumed he'd be Jax's right-hand until … Well, until he either checked out at the hands of their enemies, or years of hard living finally caught up with him. He'd never thought he'd be the one left behind to pick up the pieces.

Burned down to the butt, his cigarette dangled from his fingertips neglected. He hadn't gone back inside, probably pissing as golden a chance as he was ever likely to get with Eden into the wind. He couldn't help thinking it was probably for the best though. He doubted either of them needed that kind of complication in their life …

"Filip?"

He sat up at the soft, tentative call, stubbing out what was left of his smoke on the sole of his boot and raking a hand through his hair. "Uh, hey."

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you. I … thought I should at least say goodnight," Eden said quietly. "Seth's gonna be pretty pissed if I'm dead on my feet for the fights …"

"You good for a lift home?"

"Oh, I can just call a cab or something."

"It's pretty late – you could just crash here. Get ya a room, make sure no one bothers ya," Chibs shrugged. "Presidential perk."

"There many of those?"

"Less than you'd think," he said wryly, thinking of all the responsibilities piled up at his door. "Come on."

* * *

So much for his early night.

Shoulders slumped, Seth wiped a hand over his face as he padded back to bed from the kitchen with a glass of water he hadn't even really wanted. Still, it had given him an excuse to drag himself up, telling himself he definitely wasn't checking up on Eden. The fact he noticed her bedroom door was still open, giving away that she hadn't come home, was purely coincidence.

He knew it was ridiculous. Eden was a grown-ass woman who was long past needing anyone keeping tabs on her. The fact she was even back living with him in the first place was purely so they could both get back on their feet. Strictly temporary. But, after everything that had happened …

She could be thirty-five or sixty-five – she'd always be his baby sister. And she'd been through some seriously dark shit. He supposed they both had. Prison hadn't exactly been a walk in the park. He never wanted her to know just how bad that whole experience had been though.

The guilt over him ending up inside in the first place was bad enough, no matter how often he told her to stop beating herself up. She didn't need to know the details. The beatdowns in the yard, the shiv that had slashed his chest when it could so easily have been his throat, the list went on and on. She didn't need to be thinking about any of it, not when she'd already been struggling to get her life back together.

He couldn't work out if her agreeing to hang out at one of Samcro's parties was a step forward or a step back. Getting out, having fun, that was one thing. Drinking herself into oblivion with a bunch of bikers was another.

But again, she was a big girl. He wasn't trying to be her keeper. He just worried. After everything, after almost losing her, how could he do anything else?

* * *

"Is this your room?" Eden asked curiously, looking around the surprisingly comfortable space the Scotsman had shown her. With its big double bed heaped with blankets, clothes thrown over a battered armchair in the corner and personal effects cluttering the nightstands, it was decidedly lived in, but didn't actually smell like a locker room or frat house, as she had to admit she'd feared.

"When I crash here, aye," Chibs nodded, although he knew it was more often than not these days. He'd barely seen the inside of his own small home since taking over the gavel, preferring to keep his mind focused on the club and its future, rather than risk dwelling on its ghosts any more than he had to. "Fresh sheets, promise. Can't say it'll be too quiet out in the clubhouse, but give it another hour and most o' them'll crash and burn."

The party, now well into the early hours of the morning, had taken on a decidedly chaotic turn. Everyone was long past hammered, a crowd had gathered outside to holler on those indulging in a bloody bare-knuckle fight, a particularly popular sweetbutt was getting fucked right on the pool table …

A bit of shit-kicking and general debauchery was a far-cry from cartels and coke and killings though. It didn't take a president to deal with clubhouse clean-ups. So, for once, Chibs could let his attention … wander.

And he'd done just that as he reached for the hand of his wide-eyed, flushed companion, keeping her close behind him as he'd shouldered his way to the bar and then finally down the quieter corridor behind it to the room that was always his for the taking.

"Make yourself at home," he added now. "If you lock the door, no one'll disturb ya."

"Yeah?" Eden said, still feeling the buzz from all the alcohol, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. "In that case …"

She reached around him and slowly turned the key in the lock, making him raise his eyebrows in question.

"You should stay. I'd feel bad kicking you out of your own room," she murmured, rising up on tiptoe to graze her lips softly against his, with a pseudo-innocent look that made Chibs inwardly groan.

He felt his self-control melt away even as his mouth claimed hers in a long searing kiss, his work-roughened hands cupping her face as he pulled away to consider her, his eyes roving over her before he kissed her again.

"Beautiful," Chibs mumbled roughly, his forehead resting gently against hers between kisses and his hands slipping to her ass to pull her in close. "You have no fuckin' idea what you're doin' to me, love."

"You're giving me a fair idea," she said wryly, pressed tight against him as she was, and making him chuckle as he realised how true that was before reluctantly pulling away and taking a deep breath as he tried to wrestle his baser desires back down into submission.

"You're dead on your feet," he said, inwardly kicking himself for putting the brakes on whatever was happening here, but realising she had to be both exhausted and pretty drunk by now. The last thing he wanted was to be the cause of regret on that pretty face.

"Sorry," Eden managed, trying to smother a sudden yawn with her hand, the long night really starting to crash in on her now she was faced with the prospect of a comfortable bed.

"Don't gotta apologise," Chibs grinned, reaching out to smooth a stray lock of hair back from her face and planting a little kiss on her forehead. "Here, got a t-shirt you can sleep in …"

He was trying to be as much of a gentleman as he felt could reasonably be expected under the circumstances, but watching her slip out of her outfit and into the black Samcro t-shirt he'd offered her was just too good an opportunity to miss and she laughed lightly at him, blushing under the heat of his gaze.

"What can I say? Yer a sight for sore eyes, lass," he said, from where he'd sprawled back against the pillows, an arm tucked behind his head.

"And you're over-dressed, Filip," she noted. "I mean, you really should get some rest too. Big day tomorrow."

"That is true," he drawled, getting up to strip to his boxers even as she crawled beneath the covers to wait for him to join her – and finding her already more than half asleep when he did. She looked so peaceful that he didn't even have the heart to curse his luck.

"G'night, darlin'," Chibs murmured softly, taken aback when she shifted sleepily into his arms, but happy to oblige as her head pillowed comfortably on his chest.

"Night, Filip."

* * *

Despite the late night, the first streaks of soft dawn light coming through a crack in the curtains woke Chibs and he almost groaned until he became aware of his surroundings and remembered the unexpected company sharing his bed. Eden was sprawled on her front by his side, his t-shirt oversized on her and falling off one lightly tanned shoulder that he couldn't resist kissing softly.

She stirred, heaving a little contented sigh as her eyes fluttered open. "Time's it?" she mumbled, throwing an arm over her face to block the light.

"Too early," Chibs supplied, his voice still thick with sleep. "Sorry, pet, didn't mean to wake ya."

"S'okay," Eden murmured, letting her arm curl lazily around his shoulders as he leaned over her to get a look at the time on the small digital clock by her side of the bed.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice low and rough. The level of temptation as he gazed down at her, considering all the elements that added up to make this a bad idea, was quickly proving just too much for his already stretched resolve and he gently nuzzled a soft kiss and then another into the crook of her neck. "This okay too?"

"Mmhmm," she sighed, letting his mouth find hers, her lips parting under his. She could feel his warm hand caressing a path up her bare leg, trailing from knee to thigh and his touch pulled her a little further from sleep. Their slow kisses deepened, growing a little more urgent as his hand eased its way under her borrowed shirt.

He couldn't hold back a growl when he found her wet for him. "Shit, darlin' …" he managed, now fully awake and pulling aside the covers to get them out of the way.

His strong fingers hooked into the sides of her panties and slowly eased them down her legs, before he wasted no time lapping at her core with his tongue and making her gasp.

"Filip …"

His name falling from her lips only urged him on and he held her in place with one hand flattened on her stomach as his mouth ravaged her pussy, making her hips buck towards him.

"Oh god," she gasped, her hands in his hair and her eyes drifting closed again, as she focused on the waves of pleasure assaulting her body. "Please …"

He didn't even bother getting the t-shirt off her, quite liking the sight of her in his clothes, even if he was looking forward to getting her naked further down the line. But for now, shedding his boxers and grabbing a condom from the nightstand, all he wanted was to be buried inside her.

He shifted to kiss her throat again and then her ear, biting gently at the lobe. "You sure, pet?" Chibs asked roughly, already pressed thick and hard between her legs.

Thank fuck she nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks loads to those reading, and especially for the feedback - good or bad, it always helps to hear what people are thinking! :)**

* * *

**Eight**

The atmosphere was electric.

The crowd baying for blood over the thud of gloved fists on flesh and pumping music in between rounds. Cat calls ringing out for the scantily clad Red Woody stars moonlighting as ring girls. Cheers sent up for the victors, even as those defeated crumpled to the mat.

"Ready, boys?" Chibs hollered, grabbing Happy by the shoulders and giving him a little shake, while Tig slapped him on the back. For the first time in a long time, with his cut on his back and the memory of a beautiful woman in his bed, he felt like he could walk tall with a weight off his shoulders. "For the honour o' Samcro … And a shit-load o' cold, hard cash!"

They'd cleaned up so far, both betting and running their own book on the fights so far, and now they were all throwing their support firmly behind their brother in what looked like proving one of the main events of the night. For an amateur set-up, Seth sure had put on a helluva show.

"Hey, your guy's up next …"

Turning on his heel at the familiar voice, a little smile tugged at the corner of Chibs' mouth. It wasn't like him to be on the back foot, so to speak, but he found himself wondering how she expected him to be with her. "Hey, darlin'," he said, with what he hoped was an ease he didn't really feel.

"Hey, yourself," Eden said, stood there in the doorway of what was usually one of the gym's two treatment rooms out the back and which the Sons had been allocated as a locker room of sorts. Dressed in dark green coveralls that proved to have _medic _printed on the back in white when she slipped past them, she was clearly firmly in work mode, confirmed when she nodded towards the cupboards. "Just need to stock up on supplies."

"Busy night?" Chibs asked, conscious of his smirking brothers watching their exchange. And of his own mind seemingly hellbent on replaying the night they had spent together, even though there was a fair chance it was going to send his blood rushing below his waist.

"_Filip …"_

_Her soft moans only spurred him on, thrusting deeper as her legs wrapped around his hips, a hand in her hair, and everything he wanted to do to her pouring in her ear between thickly accented curses._

_She was still in his t-shirt and, sexy as that undeniably was, he wanted to revel in every inch of just her._

_He shifted them easily, grinning up at her as she ended up on top of him. "Looks like I'm gonna need that back, darlin'," he growled, his hands already pushing the loose t-shirt up over her thighs before lifting it up, pulling it over her head and tossing it aside. "Fuckin' beautiful …"_

_She flushed, but it could have been under the heat of his gaze as it flickered from her bare breasts to her face or just from his cock still buried inside her, his hips rocking firmly upwards and dragging a helpless groan from her already kiss-bruised lips. "Oh, Filip …"_

"Filip?"

Pulled from his inadvertent reverie, Chibs looked at her almost blankly. "Huh?"

"I said good luck out there," Eden repeated. "For Happy."

"Oh, for Happy," he nodded, still somewhat distracted. "Right …"

* * *

They were on their way to the ring when the first sign of trouble reared its head.

Playing to the whoops and hollers of their brothers and extended club family, they strode through the parting crowd – Happy, his hood up and an intense focus in his dark eyes, at the front, just behind Tig as he cleared a path for their team and followed by Bug and Charlie. Chibs himself was bringing up the rear, at least until he spotted the cut on the guy who stepped in their way and alarm bells started ringing loud and clear.

"If we're gonna have a problem, this ain't the time or the place," he warned, shouldering his way to the front and laying a warning hand on Tig's chest. "We're all just here to enjoy a night at the boxing. Ain't that right?"

"Yeah, we heard you boys had gone soft," came the cool response. "Figured there was a gap in the market."

"A gap …" Chibs snorted, as he trailed off, already bored of the conversation. "This goin' somewhere, pal? 'Cause we've got a fight to win here."

"I wouldn't bet on it. Literally. I heard one of you bitches turned pussy and pulled out already. Maybe this guy should do the same."

"Who the fuck you calling a pussy?" Happy snarled, having to be held back by the others as Chibs stepped firmly between him and their new unwelcome acquaintance, conscious of the other bikers who stepped up behind their apparent vice president.

"If I was you, I'd run along home, _VP_," the angry Scotsman hissed, jabbing a hard finger at the patch on the younger man's cut. The leather looked new, especially compared with the well-aged, road-worn cuts of the Sons. "Before you find out just how out o' yer depth you really are."

"Get your hand off me, old man," the biker snapped, sizing Chibs up as the Scot squared up to him, bristling over the blatant disrespect. "Oh, you wanna fucking go? Well, let's go!"

"Is this asshole serious?" Tig demanded, the tell-tale grin on his face a sure sign of trouble. "Tell me he's serious. It's funnier if he's serious."

"All mouth now, boys – too bad you're too chicken to face us in the ring. Come on, tell us, who pussied out?"

Suddenly furious to see Charlie's head drop guiltily, Chibs' jaw tightened dangerously. "You want a fuckin' fight? Fine, you got it."

"You need me to handle this, brother?" Tig spoke up eagerly, already cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

"Nah, you go tell Seth he's got another Samcro bout on the bill after all," Chibs said, his gaze never leaving the smirking face of their apparent rival biker. "I got this."

* * *

"Representing the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club and fighting out of your host gym, the Scrapyard, Filip 'Chibs' Telford!" the announcer bellowed.

Eden's head shot up startled, having been expecting Happy's fight to go ahead next and wondering what the hold up was. Chibs hadn't been on the list of competitors and he hadn't mentioned anything about planning to replace Charlie.

"Representing the War Boys Motorcycle Club and fighting out of McGreary's Boxing Gym, Archie Vane!"

The announcer was no Michael Buffer, but he was giving it a good go and the crowd was definitely fired up for this one, packed as it was with bikers and their hangers-on. Eden felt a little shiver go down her spine and she stepped up closer to the edge of the ring, hoping her services wouldn't be required. She could only imagine that the president of the Sons knew how to handle himself and his scars certainly spoke of a tough life – still, the power behind the first punch thrown made her inhale sharply. Fuck.

She'd grown up around boxing. Her dad had been a two-weight champion back in his day. Seth had enjoyed plenty of success before an injury had put paid to his own career and he'd turned his focus to the coaching and fitness side of things. Her medical training made her even more aware than most of the risks, but she had to admit, she did enjoy the buzz. It had been a while since she'd seen a fight with an edge like this though.

She flinched as Chibs took a brutal blow to the kidneys, half expecting him to lose control and simply head-butt his opponent, such was the ferocity of their encounter.

"Come on, Pres," she could hear Tig yell. "Kick that fucker's ass!"

The cut she had stitched so carefully was bleeding again. Not enough for the ref to stop the fight, but enough for her to notice. Her fists had clenched without her realising and she silently willed him on, trying to keep anything other than professional concern off her face.

Chibs landed a brain-rattling right hook and then another, sending his younger opponent reeling, and it was all Eden could do to keep from cheering. The deliberate blow to the back of his head when the two fighters came together in the centre of the ring did draw a shout from her though and she wasn't alone. The referee forced the pair apart and warned the culprit sternly, but it appeared he had no intention of fighting fair any more.

The blatant trip sent Chibs crashing to the mat, only for him to clamber back up, gesturing furiously. His opponent lunged at him, swinging haymakers, but the Scot side-stepped and then caught him with an uppercut that made the crowd gasp.

"That's it - finish him!" Tig roared, now up on the ropes in the Samcro corner.

And, breathing heavily, Chibs did.

* * *

The War Boys VP may have had youth on his side, relatively speaking, but it turned out to be no match for the raw aggression that had gotten Chibs through many a street fight in Glasgow and in Belfast.

Added to his greater experience, in the ring and out of it, the Scotsman had actually inadvertently ended up in probably the best shape of his life. Throwing himself into working with Charlie and some of the others to keep out the demons in his head, and regularly beating the shit out of a punch-bag to stop himself taking his fists to the walls had seen him drop the gut that middle-aged spread and heavy drinking had allowed to cultivate. He'd taken on a leaner, harder shape usually reserved for serving hard time with nothing to do but work out to alleviate the boredom and stay sharp to threats from other inmates or even guards.

He guessed he had well over 10 years on his opponent and, sure, he was tiring, but he still knew he could take him. In fact, if it hadn't been for his respect for Seth and not wanting to turn his big night into a blood bath, he'd already have put the asshole down.

As it was, he rallied for a final flurry of hard body shots, further weakening the already struggling younger man. There was blood trickling into his own eye, and he briefly rued the ruination of Eden's handiwork – although he wasn't opposed to the prospect of spending more time with her to get patched back up again …

His blood was already pumping and the thought of her only urged him on. He could hear the hollers of his brothers too and even a voice he could have sworn was Lyla screaming her support.

He staggered under a twinge in his knee and caught a hard fist in the face, but he hit back immediately and relished the audible crunch of nose cartilage crumpling under his glove. The little shite would think twice about his cockiness now.

"_Motherfucker!_" came the anguished howl. "You broke my fucking nose!"

"Next time, it'll be yer legs," Chibs hissed, before delivering what was to be the final blow and sending his opponent crashing to the mat with his eyes rolling back in his head.

The place erupted in cheers and the Sons watching from ringside burst through the ropes to gleefully sweep him into back-slapping hugs and raise his fists in victory.

"Chibs!" Lyla shrieked up at him, elbowing her way to the front of the crowd and blowing him a kiss. "You were amazing, but what the hell happened? Why are you even in there?"

"Long story, darlin'," he yelled back. "I'll catch ya at the after-party – gotta get cleaned up …"

* * *

Watching as Chibs delivered the knockout blow, Eden smothered a smile and tried to turn her attention to work, lifting her bag and leaving the downed fighter to the medic from the rival gym he apparently fought at – instead heading back to the room the Sons had been using before the fight. The Scot looked like he'd need stitches again, so she might as well go ahead and get set up …

She looked up when the door opened, not surprised to find him stood there, although a little thrown by the intense look on his face.

"You need me?" she asked lightly, only realising how that sounded when obvious lust flared in his eyes.

He didn't give her a chance to clarify. "Aye, lass, I reckon I do," he growled.

He crossed the room before her mind had time to play catch-up, his mouth already on hers in a deep, almost desperate kiss, as she found herself propelled backwards until she slammed up against the wall with a whimper that definitely wasn't a complaint. His strong hands roamed freely over her body, before wrenching open the poppers of her medic's coveralls. Knowing how hot the gym would get packed with so many people, she hadn't bothered with anything underneath apart from her plain black bra and matching boy shorts. Chibs' appreciation for that fact was all too plain.

Hot kisses trailed down her throat to her collarbone, one hand filling itself with the firm swell of her breast and the other fumbling to free his already straining cock. The groan that escaped him when he was finally inside her seemed to come straight from his gut.

"_Fuck_," he ground out, feeling her hands grip his shoulders tightly as he thrust hard into her tight heat.

His muffled grunts and her breathless moans turned into ragged chuckles, when he moved to boost her up, only to find the tangles of their clothes – still half-dressed as they were - were stopping her wrapping her legs around him.

"Shit, sorry, darlin'," Chibs managed to laugh, resting his head against hers in their moment's enforced pause. "Guess I kinda jumped the gun here …"

"You definitely jumped something …" Eden murmured wryly, her fingertips gently stroking the scruff of his beard as they both got their breath back, the initial urgency of their encounter slipping away. Every last bit of desire was still there though and she caught her lower lip between her teeth when his hips rocked slowly against hers again.

Chibs' hands slid down her arms, his fingers curling around hers and then pinning her hands to the wall by her head, keeping up that same torturous pace he had slowed to as he kissed her.

"Hey, Eden, have you seen—Oh, fucking hell! I … shit … sorry!"

The biker and the medic in his arms both froze, one mildly put out by the interruption and the other wide-eyed with horror at the realisation of what had happened, and the door that had been thrown open slammed abruptly shut again.

"Was that …?"

"Seth," Eden groaned, her head dropping onto Chibs' shoulder in dismay.

"Well, that's a mood killer."


	9. Chapter 9

**Nine**

With the after-party in full swing and the Sons delighted to have watched both their president and their sergeant take bloody victories in the ring, they were more than happy to indulge themselves, even if Chibs had warned them to keep one eye open for any more signs of trouble from the no doubt disgruntled War Boys.

Meanwhile, the Scot had finally decided he should probably face the music with Seth and, spotting the huge gym owner nursing a beer in a quiet corner, he headed that way, his hands raised in good-natured surrender.

"I come in peace," Chibs said, trying to keep it light. He wasn't used to bothering to tread so carefully around anyone, but for some reason, he did want to avoid any unnecessary aggro – especially with Eden's family. "We gonna have a problem, man?"

"You tell me," Seth said coolly, taking a long swig of his beer.

"It ain't what it looked like …"

The look he got in response to that was sceptical at best and even Chibs couldn't blame him for that. As excuses went, he had to admit it was pretty lame.

"Really? That's the line you're going with? Listen, Chibs, much as your attempt at talking your way out of this might be entertaining if it wasn't my little sister you were nailing, I'm going to save you time and cut to the chase. I got a lot of respect for you. Hell, I even like you, despite you deciding to throw my launch night into disarray, bringing your MC turf war bullshit into _my_ ring. But you disrespect my sister, or you hurt her in any way, and, president or no president, I will fucking _destroy_ you. Are we clear?"

"Aye, crystal," the biker nodded, after a moment's consideration and deciding that was probably fair enough under the circumstances.

"And I never see that shit again," Seth added. "Seriously."

Also fair, Chibs thought - noting with interest that he hadn't seemed to demand it never actually _happen_ again.

"She's a grown-ass woman," Seth added, seeming to read his mind. "And I'm her brother, not her keeper. It ain't for me to tell her how to live her life. Don't mean I gotta be happy about it."

"If you were a patch, we could take it to the ring …" the biker shrugged, reluctant to bring it up when he was still aching from his last impromptu bout, but feeling strangely honour-bound to at least offer the possibility.

"And give you even more of an excuse to go running to Eden for some TLC?"

The two men exchanged wry smiles and any tension seemed to crumble as they started to laugh.

"We ain't got a problem here," Seth sighed. "But I mean it about not dicking her around, dude. The fact she's let you get close in the first place – don't underestimate that."

"You're still not gonna tell me what went down wi' you two then?"

"When she trusts you, she'll tell you. But, Chibs, she …" Seth trailed off, looking conflicted over how far to go in his warning. "She ain't a reliable narrator when it comes to that story, that's all I can say. Remember that."

Chibs frowned, more perplexed than ever as to what the hell the siblings had been caught up in, but also more determined to find out. And preferably sooner rather than later.

* * *

"So you're the one who broke my VP's nose – I was expecting someone … younger."

Chibs' jaw tensed at the sly insult, but he forced a smile on his face as he turned from his place at the bar to take in the apparent president of the War Boys and a few of his men who had fallen in behind him. The squat shaven-headed man in front of him looked even younger than his number two.

"What can I say?" the Scotsman shrugged easily. "Yer no in the playground now, fellas."

"Funny. Who the hell are you anyway?"

Drawing himself up to his full height, and having a good couple of inches on his counterpart, Chibs simply stared right back at him for a long moment. "Given that ya felt the need to come over here wi' yer wee show o' strength, I'd say you know exactly who I am," he drawled. "Question is – who the hell are _you?_"

Tig was by his side before the War Boys president could even open his mouth to reply.

"There a problem here?" he demanded, glaring at the rival club members he'd ruffled by unceremoniously shouldering his way through.

"Just about to get an introduction from our wee pals here," Chibs told him. "Ain't that right, boys? Jesus, don't tell me yer lads are all mute? I'm almost jealous …"

"Cut the shit," came the snapped response. "We just want to make sure you get the message to stay clear of our business. You assholes had your chances to make serious bank and you blew it. Way I hear it, you're out of the game anyway, so just leave us to it."

Chibs raised an eyebrow at the turn the conversation had taken and in so public a setting, hazarding what he thought was a pretty good guess at what was meant by it. "Guns? Yous are getting into the gun trade?" he asked. He might have laughed, if the memory of the bloodshed and carnage that had been brought to their door wasn't still so raw in his mind. "Trust me when I say that ain't something ya wanna broadcast."

"Unlike your boys, we ain't scared of a little heat," the War Boys president sneered. "So just consider this a warning from Johnny Six. Stay the fuck away."

Tig and Chibs watched them go, before exchanging a glance.

"Did he just refer to himself in the third person?" Tig mused disapprovingly.

"Aye, I think the bastard did," Chibs sighed, slinging a companionable arm around his brother's shoulder – before his attention was caught by a glimpse of Eden.

"You hitting that again?" Tig grinned. "You got taste, man, I'll give you that. Can't say the same about her …"

"Fuck you, Tiggy," Chibs laughed. "Now, go find Bug and tell him to start digging into anyone local using the alias Johnny Six and anyone linked to the War Boys MC. I wanna know everything about these wee shites."

"Where you gonna be?"

"For now, digging into someone else I'd like to know better …" the Samcro president said, his gaze never leaving the little brunette across the packed gym.

* * *

Mortified as she still was at the thought of what her brother had walked in on, Eden couldn't help the little shiver that ran down her spine at the sight of the biker president striding towards her. Whatever was going on between them, the basic attraction was undeniable and his arm slipping around her waist sent a little smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, even as he pressed an all-too-brief kiss to her lips.

"Hey," Chibs murmured. "You look great, darlin'."

Out of her medic's coveralls and in a black leather skirt and dark green silky camisole, her hair tumbling over her shoulders in soft waves, she flushed lightly at the compliment. "So … do we need to worry about Seth going on the rampage?" she asked, realising their little exchange alone had already drawn more than a few curious glances.

"I did have a wee chat with big brother," Chibs shrugged, casually pulling her into his arms. "Can't say he's thrilled, but turns out he's decided not to break my legs yet."

"Yet?" Eden echoed.

"Think he's saving that for in case he decides I've got plans to mess ya about."

"Oh," she said thoughtfully, her hands sliding up his arms to rest lightly on his biceps. "And … do you?"

"Got plenty o' plans for ya, lass. Messing about ain't one o' them," he whispered in her ear, bringing the heat back to her cheeks again. "Hey, whadda ya say we do this the old-fashioned way? Once tonight's outta the way, let me take you for dinner sometime."

Eden raised her eyebrows at that. "What, like a date?"

"That such a surprise?"

"Guess I just … didn't think that was a big, bad biker's style," she said lightly.

"Oi, I can make an effort …" he said, feigning offence that she might think otherwise, but there was still a little twinkle in his warm brown eyes. "When I want to. And trust me, darlin', I want to."

It wasn't that Eden didn't believe he was genuine, but she still couldn't help the hesitation creeping into her mind. She may have been joking about _big, bad bikers_, but … She'd heard enough to know what the lifestyle could be like, plus she'd witnessed the clubhouse in full swing herself. And after everything she'd had to deal with, more complications were the last thing she needed.

Did she really think it was a good idea to be getting involved with an older man, one probably used to casual hook-ups and putting everything second to his beloved club – a club that put him and anyone close to him squarely in the sights of everyone from rival gangs to local law enforcement to the feds? Even if that man was looking at her with a sudden glimmer of concern.

"You do trust me, don't you?" Chibs asked quietly, reaching to brush a stray lock of hair back behind her ear and letting his hand cup her cheek, a little frown knitting his brows.

She wanted to say yes, she really did, but her moment's pause meant it was already too late. She could see it in his eyes. "Filip … It's not that I don't trust you. I just … Sorry, it's stupid …"

The flash of whatever it was that had crossed his face faded away and he shook his head. "Hey, no. You don't gotta apologise, pet. I get it, honestly. Trust's gotta be earned, yeah? I promise ya, I ain't gonna push for more than the chance to earn yours."

Touched by his understanding, knowing as she did that she hadn't told him the whole story or anything remotely like it, Eden managed a faint little smile. While she thought he meant what he was saying, she didn't exactly have much confidence someone in his position would have the patience for that though. Not with a clubhouse that was regularly filled with strippers and porn stars. Easy, uncomplicated lays.

But Chibs simply pressed a surprisingly chaste little kiss to her lips. "One step at a time, darlin'. Yeah?"

Unconvinced, but wanting to believe him, Eden found herself nodding anyway.

She still couldn't help thinking their connection would prove to be short-lived though, if he knew the truth.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ten**

"Hey, doll."

Turning from the counter, even as she thanked the barista for the two steaming take-away coffees, Eden smiled when she came face-to-face with Lyla. "Hey," she returned the greeting warmly. "How are ya?"

"Good – busy," Lyla said. "Things are finally picking up at the garage again. I guess I shouldn't complain, but the guys are spread pretty thin these days. Thought I'd at least come out for a decent coffee, clear my head. You got time to sit for five, or …?"

"Uh … Yeah, sure. You haven't ordered yet? Here, take this one – I can grab Seth another before we leave."

"He keeping you busy too?" Lyla asked, as they found a vacant table just outside the coffee shop and sat down to enjoy the sun. "Thought we might have seen you around the clubhouse a bit more …"

Clocking the knowing little look on the blonde's face, Eden rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling, realising her new friend meant well. "Subtle, real subtle."

"Dunno what you mean," Lyla protested, but she ended up laughing. "Okay, hands up, I'm fishing. Strictly to satisfy my own curiosity though. Hey, cut me some slack, I've seen the sparks between you and Chibs – I can't help getting a little impatient waiting to see how that catches fire."

"Just don't go getting your hopes up," Eden warned, sipping on her coffee, but not missing the frown her words drew.

"Uh, what?" Lyla asked, clearly confused. "Listen, I don't want to pry – okay, I kinda do, but … I'm not imagining it – there's something there, right? Like more than just a hook-up?"

"I know you're connected, but I barely know the guy, Lyla," Eden sighed. "And what I do know … Well, it ain't exactly Tinder profile material, is it?"

Lyla almost choked on her coffee at that. "Shit, sorry. The thought of Chibs on Tinder, I can't even … I mean, I love the man, but he has a hard enough time with the office computer," she said, smothering a giggle before turning serious again. "Look, Eden, I'm definitely not the person to blindly give you the hard sell on club life. What I went through with Opie … I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Eden shifted uncomfortably in her seat at the flash of grief on the other woman's face. "I heard about what happened," she said softly. "I'm so sorry, I can't imagine how awful that must have been."

Lyla acknowledged that with a grateful little nod, blinking back tears that had quickly sprung up at the thought of her husband and their short-lived life together. "Things were far from perfect and the club was definitely a big part of complicating that," she admitted. "Sometimes I wonder how things might have been if … If we'd never … gotten together."

"You think it might have been … easier?" Eden prompted gently, as the former porn star lapsed into reflective silence, only for her to firmly set down her coffee and lean across the table in response.

"Easier," Lyle nodded, a fierce look in her blue eyes. "Sure. Easier to slid into oblivion. Easier to rely on a fix to get through the shit I had to do to pay my way, to pay for my kid. Easier to get hooked on harder and harder gear. I may have been a porn star, and I know what some people think of me for that, but without Op – I'd have ended up just another junkie hooker on the streets. He wasn't perfect, we weren't perfect, but who is?"

A little taken aback by the intensity of her stance, Eden could only listen and take it on board. She had no idea how to respond, but it seemed Lyla didn't expect her to.

"I'm not trying to force your hand," Lyla said, forcing a little smile back on her face. "We don't really know each other either, but I like you and it'd be nice to have a friend who isn't just a co-star, you know? I'm just passing on a little advice I had to learn the hard way. You can't separate the man from the club, so if that's a deal-breaker, then yeah, it ain't worth even trying because that's nothing but a sure-fire way to heartbreak. But I guess I'm just saying there's more to Chibs than the obvious. Don't rule out giving him a chance to show you that."

"You must really trust him," Eden said quietly. "Sticking around like you have, working at the garage, having the kids around the club?"

Lyla nodded. "I'm not stupid – I get that it's not without risks. Trust me on that, I've got the bullet scar to prove it. But, after Op, Jax was good to me. Chibs too. And this last year, even with everything he's had to take on, he's still looked out for me and the kids. Under all the outlaw shit, he's a good man, Eden. He deserves a little happiness for a change."

Eden may not have said anything to that, but with her mind full of the Scotsman's murmured words of caress, the warmth in his brown eyes when he looked at her, and the heat of his touch on her skin, she couldn't deny that she at least wanted the chance to be the one to provide that. She just didn't know if she could be.

* * *

"You not joining me?"

Handing over a takeaway coffee to her brother, Eden shook her head as she perched on the edge of his office table. "Ended up grabbing one with Lyla."

"The cute little blonde the Sons got running the garage?"

"That'd be the one," Eden said, toying distractedly with the leather strap of her watch.

Seth eyed her as he sipped his latte, seeming to debate whether or not to speak up. "You okay? You seem kinda … off."

"Just thinking."

"About?" he prompted, when nothing further was forthcoming - figuring that if she really didn't want to talk, she wouldn't have said anything. "Eden?"

"I'm thinking about going back to work," she said finally, meeting his surprised gaze with a little shrug. "About time, don't you think?"

"Long over-due, I'd say," Seth said, but he reached out to squeeze her hand gently. "I'm proud of you, kid. What changed your mind?"

"Just thought it was time I … moved on. Got my life back on track. I still want to be involved here at the gym, I like working here. But you were right. I've been using it as something to hide behind. I can't do that forever."

Her brother nodded slowly, pleased with the decision she'd come to, although still wondering exactly what had sparked such a change of heart. Maybe it was just time. Maybe it was something more. "And Shane?"

Eden's face hardened at that. "Nothing changes there. Too much water under that bridge."

"Can't say I'm sorry," Seth shrugged. "You know my feelings on that jumped-up prick."

"Yeah, you might have mentioned something," Eden said wryly, knowing that was a hell of an understatement. "Look, he's in the past. It's time I started focusing on the future."

Seth nodded again, taking a long drink of his coffee, his eyes never leaving her as he tried to get a read on what was going on behind her cool, collected front. He didn't disagree, but that didn't mean he didn't still have questions. Concerns. "Chibs Telford in that future?" he asked casually.

Eden rolled her eyes at that, once again uncomfortable at the memory of what he'd inadvertently witnessed. "I wondered when you'd get round to that," she mumbled. "He says you don't have a problem with it."

"That's a generous assessment," Seth scoffed. "Hey, I know it ain't my business, but you can't be surprised to know he's too much an outlaw for me to be thrilled about him hooking up with my little sister. Not to mention too old and too a dozen other things that are probably just for starters."

"Seth-"

"Nah, hear me out. I got my concerns, any brother would. But I still trust him a helluva lot more than that worthless bastard you're putting in the rear-view. So if a goddamn biker's what it takes to get you moving forward again … I'll deal."

Taken aback, but touched by his take on things – even if he wasn't exactly on the mark – Eden managed a little smile for him. "I'm not making life decisions around a guy I barely know," she said softly. "I just … I need to get out from under everything that's been hanging over my head. I want to get on with living my life. I dunno if there's more to me and Chibs than … Well, you know. But I want to find out."

"Like I said," Seth sighed. "I'll deal."

* * *

"I'm glad we finally got the chance to do this, darlin'."

"Me too," Eden smiled, raising her wine glass to clink it lightly against the biker president's across the intimate candlelit table.

He could tell she'd been surprised when he'd told her she could get dolled up without worrying about having to get on his bike and had since come to the conclusion her reaction was worth the effort of picking her up in Lyla's Escalade and taking her to the cosy, out-of-the-way Italian restaurant they were now sat in. He'd even forgone pulling on his cut over the soft material of one of his better gray shirts and the thin scarf looped around his neck in place of a tie. That was a decision he had pondered over though. Taking the physical reaper off his back made him no less a Son, so there was no point pretending otherwise. She would either accept that or she wouldn't, but he couldn't set out to deceive her on the point. He was who he was, take it or leave it.

Determined to just enjoy their evening though, Chibs pushed that out of his mind and let his gaze wander over her again, approving of the deep green dress that brought out the colour of her eyes, clinging to her breasts and flaring out from her nipped-in waist to swirl delicately around her knees.

"You look beautiful," he said warmly, his hand reaching for hers and toying with her slim fingers.

"You mentioned that already," she smiled, flushing just a little.

"What can I say? Bears repeating."

"You don't scrub up too bad yourself, Mr Telford," Eden replied, letting their fingers lace together. "Definite silver fox vibe."

"Yeah?" he grinned, half pleased, half sheepish. "An aul' man can but try."

"Was it hard getting a night off from … everything? The club?" she asked lightly.

"Always is, darlin'. But those boys are big enough and ugly enough to look after themselves for one night. Or I hope they are anyway."

"Must be a lot on your shoulders," Eden murmured, sympathy and understanding in her eyes and her fingers stroking his softly. "I don't expect you to tell me. I just … I can guess it must be tough. I'm glad you can get away from it, even just for a minute."

His gaze drifted from her eyes to her lips and he leaned across the small table to kiss her, before settling back in his seat. "It never leaves ya, pet. Price o' the patch – for me and anyone close. That a problem?"

Eden raised her shoulders helplessly and he realised he was asking for an answer she couldn't possibly have. Not yet anyway.

"Only one way to find out," she said.

He supposed that was true.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I figured some people might feel short-changed if they didn't get to see how that date played out ... So, call this a little interlude - next time, the past and all the complications that brings starts to raise its head ... Enjoy! ;)**

* * *

**Eleven**

"Make yersel' at home, pet …"

His place wasn't exactly a palace, but it was better than the raucous clubhouse, so Chibs had opted for heading back there after they'd finished their meal and strolled through the dusky streets to where they'd parked up, her hand caught in his. And she didn't seem to mind, taking their surroundings in with polite curiosity before slipping off to freshen up in his bathroom and giving him the chance to put some music on low and crack open another bottle of wine.

He was too damn old for jumping through hoops to try to impress a woman, but still … He found himself more concerned with not wanting to completely fuck this up than he'd like to admit. So he'd tried to do what he could to make sure the place didn't scream _neglected bachelor pad_ and, so far at least, she didn't seem to have any complaints. And, sure enough, she shot him a little smile as she returned to find him waiting on the couch, drinking in the sight of her approaching, his gaze trailing slowly upwards from the heels that put a little sway in her step.

Fuck, how had this even happened?

Between the club's various business interests over the years, from Cara Cara to Diosa and Red Woody, and the pull it seemed to have on a certain type of woman with a penchant for danger, he wasn't unaccustomed to being surrounded by attractive company – women who wore their sexuality like a weapon. Croweaters and escorts, porn stars and hookers. Women who flaunted everything they had in the pursuit of what they wanted.

In one way or another, he was used to women hardened by the hands life had dealt them. Not this. Not pretty little paramedics with no idea the effect they could have on him. Well, maybe not quite no idea …

"Thank you for tonight," Eden murmured, settling comfortably on his lap, her fingers toying absently with the end of his scarf.

"The pleasure was all mine, darlin'," he replied, meeting her soft kiss and letting it melt into another and then another, his hand sliding into her long, loose hair to hold her close as her lips parted under his.

He knew he should be careful, guarded against letting anyone get too close – for their own sake as much as his. But it had been a hellish ride for as long as he could remember, losing so many people he loved and in the most horrific of ways. Now that there was finally, _finally_ a glimmer of light on the horizon … It was hard to let that go. If he was honest, he needed some kind of sign that life was still worth living, rather than just surviving.

Maybe it was selfish to put that on someone like her, but … how could he be expected to resist? Especially when she was in his arms and seeming hellbent on making him lose his senses.

"Got a perfectly good bed goin' to waste upstairs, ya know," Chibs managed, with a little grin, sitting back against the plump cushions of his seen-better-days couch and raking a hand through his silver-streaked hair as Eden tried to straighten her dress and get her breath back.

She laughed at that, swatting lightly at his chest. "Careful, Telford, or I'll think you're only after one thing."

"You started it, love …"

"True," she admitted, reaching for her wine glass and taking a long sip before settling back on the couch, this time beside him, but with her legs draped over his lap. "What can I say? I think it's the accent."

"Aye, I get that a lot," he grinned wryly, his hand absently caressing her bare knee.

"Oh, you do, do you? Bring a lot of girls back here then?" Eden teased.

"Actually, no," he shrugged. "Not here."

"Lot of clubhouse dates?"

Knowing she was only kidding around, making conversation, rather than trying to pry into past relationships, Chibs smiled ruefully. "Not a lot o' anything ya could call a _date_."

Sensing the explanation for that might lead them down a dark path, littered with everything piled on his shoulders that he'd probably rather forget, even just for one night, Eden dismissed it with a little tilt of her glass in his direction. "Well, I guess I'm honoured then," she said softly. "We should do it again some time."

"Yeah? I mean, yeah, that'd be great, lass – if you think you still want to hang out wi' an aul' grease-monkey like me ..."

She pretended to have to think about it, but he could see the moment the thought struck her, spoiling her little charade by lighting up her green eyes with excitement.

"Oh, can we go out for a ride sometime?" she asked eagerly, inadvertently filling his head with thoughts of her on his bike, pressed tight against his back and with her arms wrapped around him.

"Oh, aye," he nodded, a slow, suggestive smile tugging at his lips. "I'll take ya for a ride …"

"You've got a dirty mind, Telford," she sighed, in mock exasperation.

"You started it …" he tried again, making her laugh, even as he swiftly liberated the wine glass from her hand to set it aside before pushing her down on the couch for a long, hot kiss.

* * *

One thing led to another, as they tended to do, and they ended up having sex right there on the couch in the flickering light of a few candles Chibs sparked to life with his lighter, cursing softly when a tiny flame licked at his finger.

Both of them were still half-dressed when they finally dragged themselves out of their own private world enough to realise just how much the night outside had deepened.

"Still a waste o' a good bed," Chibs mumbled, grinning around the lit cigarette in the corner of his mouth when Eden lifted her head from his chest to pretend to glare at him. "Well, it is …"

He tried to protest when she slipped away from him, to stand just out of his reach, now barefoot and with her dress all askew.

"Come on then, Filip," she said, her tone half expectant, half challenging. "Take me to bed."

He raised an eyebrow at that, enjoying her little showdown and lazily taking a drag of his cigarette as he tucked his free arm behind his head to consider her from where he still sprawled on the couch. "Aye, maybe in a minute, lass …"

Her dress slipped to the floor, leaving her in tiny scraps of delicate black lace their earlier impromptu coupling hadn't allowed him to fully appreciate.

"No, now," she said sweetly.

Not entirely certain he hadn't just dislocated his jaw, Chibs reached to stub out his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table and then, in one swift move, was on his feet and hoisting her over his shoulder. "Don't forget, love," he growled, grinning at her little squeak of surprise. "You started this …"

* * *

"Oh, Filip …"

His name on her lips, in soft, breathless moans, would never fail to ignite a fire in him – as if any help was needed in that department when she'd already gotten on her knees and taken his cock in her mouth until he'd had to practically beg her to stop, unsure if he'd manage to see out a third round without losing the power of his legs. And he was out to prove he was right when it came to making the most of the comfort of his bed.

Knowing there was no danger of interruption was certainly a bonus, letting him finally take his time with her and slowly getting her naked so he could thoroughly explore every inch of smooth, lightly tan skin. To him, and he didn't care that he was quickly proving to be biased, she was fucking perfect.

She kissed him breathlessly as he rocked into her slow and deep, his hands slipping under her to pull her closer, her legs settling around his hips as they found their rhythm. His lips trailed down her throat, the scruff of his beard grazing over her skin.

"Feel good, darlin'?" he managed to ask gruffly, as her arms wrapped around his neck and she arched helplessly under him.

"Fuck, yes," Eden groaned. "Please, don't stop …"

Chibs couldn't deny the flare of masculine pride he felt at hearing that, or the gasp of pleasure he drew when he thrust harder in response. He could feel her body tremble against his, tiny beads of sweat breaking out on them both as they lost themselves in each other. He needed that escape.

But something told him they both did.

He pressed hot kisses anywhere he could get his mouth, on her breasts, her shoulders, her throat, letting her hold him close as they moved together.

"Gorgeous …" he growled, letting the pace slow again in exquisite torture, his strong hands roaming over her.

He'd already discovered how her stomach muscles would flutter at the lightest of touches from his fingertips, the tiny lotus tattoo that graced her ribs, and how her breath would catch in her throat when his mouth closed over her nipples in turn to tease the tender buds.

He realised he wanted to learn everything about her - and he was only getting started.


	12. Chapter 12

**Twelve**

Having left Eden curled up under his covers, despite her little whimper of protest, Chibs tugged on his boxers and went to check the neglected candles in the living room weren't about to burn the house down, snuffing them out. He also quickly scooped up Eden's discarded dress and purse and, as an after-thought, grabbed the half-finished bottle of wine and their glasses, before heading back up the stairs to his bedroom.

He couldn't help smiling to find her waiting for him, a half contented, half slightly self-conscious look on her face as she wrapped herself in his sheets.

"Hi," Eden murmured. "Oh, is that my purse? Can you pass it over please?"

"Hi, yourself," Chibs said, leaning down for a soft kiss, before handing her the purse and busying himself pouring the rest of the wine and retrieving something for her to wear. As much as he loved having her naked, he wanted her to be comfortable and he already knew seeing her in one of his shirts was sexy as hell.

"Thanks," Eden smiled, taking the soft flannel checked shirt he held out to her and pulling it on, just doing up a few of the buttons before pulling a tiny compact out of her purse and quickly checking for make-up smudges beneath her eyes.

"You look beautiful, lass," Chibs assured her, pushing a wine glass into her hand and sliding back into bed beside her, holding out an arm to let her snuggle into his side and planting a little kiss on the top of her head. He frowned at the tell-tale beep of a phone intruding on their peace though. "Bit late for text messages, ain't it? That big brother worried about ya?"

Despite being unsure who could be looking for her so late, Eden rolled her eyes at that. "He's not _that_ bad. He doesn't sit up waiting for me to come home," she said. "He's my brother, not my dad …"

But she trailed off as she read whatever message was on her screen, making Chibs wonder if Seth did perhaps have something to say about her not coming home from her date with him. "Everything okay?" he prompted.

"Uh, yeah," Eden managed, less than convincingly. "Fine. Let's … Let's just get some sleep, yeah? It's late."

* * *

_Why aren't you home?_

No matter how much she tried to block it out, that message kept drifting back into Eden's mind over and over. She'd switched her phone to silent before letting Chibs take her in his arms to settle down for the night, his chest pressed up against her back and his face nuzzled into her neck. She loved the intimacy of having him so close, feeling him relax as sleep overtook him, and she longed to simply drift off with him. But she couldn't.

Not with her thoughts racing the way they were.

_Why aren't you home?_

_Where the hell are you?_

_Who the fuck are you with?!_

A string of messages had silently lit up her phone, all from the same unfamiliar number, the sender clearly getting angrier and angrier as time passed. And there was only one person who could be behind the texts. Someone she hadn't heard from in months. Someone she had started to think was firmly in her past. Someone who had _zero_ right to be demanding any kind of answers from her on where she was or who she was with.

"Hey …" came the low, rough whisper as Chibs stirred behind her. "Problem?"

Realising he must have seen the glow of her phone screen, Eden immediately felt guilty, like she'd been caught red-handed, and set it down hastily on the nightstand. "No, it's nothing – sorry."

But the Scotsman was already sitting up, dragging a hand over his face and reaching to flick on the lamp. "Trouble sleeping, pet? Thought I mighta worn ya out better than this," he said, trying to keep it light, but with a hint of concern in his sleepy brown eyes. "Ya want me to get ya anything? Water? Tea?"

"No, no," she said quickly, not wanting any fuss and alarmed to find that his kindness was in danger of sparking unusually easy tears. "I'm fine, honestly."

Chibs sighed at that, clearly not buying it for a second. "Eden … If yer brother's got issues with this, you can tell me, you know …"

"It's not Seth, I promise," she said, trying to think of any way to keep from dragging him into her mess and failing miserably. "Shit, Filip, you didn't sign up for this …"

"I didn't _sign up_ for anything, as you put it," he frowned, reaching out to gently tug on a lock of her bed-tousled hair. "But I got lucky enough to get a beautiful lass into my bed and, if there's gonna be any chance o' it being a more regular thing, I'd really like to get to know her better."

"Might just make you wonder what the hell you've gotten into."

"How about you let me be the judge o' that, yeah? Talk to me, darlin'."

"You really want to _talk?_" Eden asked, trying to sound coy as she moved to straddle his lap, the shirt she had borrowed from him slipping off one shoulder.

But he seemed to realise she was just trying to distract him and, tempted though he clearly was, he kept his focus – even as his hands came to rest on her hips, stilling her movements.

"Aye, I do," Chibs murmured, although he still leaned in to kiss his way up her throat to her ear. "I just wanna help, sweetheart. Only want one reason for you having sleepless nights with me …"

She had to smile despite herself at that, her hands resting on his chest, fingers trailing lightly over his ink as she finally paid attention to what was etched there. She hesitated as she touched the letters over his heart, the question not quite making it to her lips.

He read it on her face though and seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, covering her hand with his. "Kerrianne … My daughter," he said simply.

A little of the shadow that had crossed her face lifted, but only a little. "And … her mom?"

"It's complicated," Chibs started, cut off by her little sigh.

"That's what I was afraid of," Eden said, moving to slip from his lap, but his hands on her bare thighs held her in place.

"Hold up, darlin'," he urged her, looking into those conflicted green eyes. "Hey, I was the one who wanted to talk, so I'll talk. Kerri's ma – Fiona. My wife …"

"You're married," Eden said heavily. It wasn't a question, just a flat statement. "Shit."

"Hear me out, lass …"

"Hear you out? Filip, you're _married_. Getting in the middle of that's the last thing I want."

"Trust me, you ain't getting in the middle o' _anything_," he said firmly, never breaking eye contact with her, his strong fingers still slowly caressing the soft skin beneath them. "Married, aye, I am. Technically. But me and Fi, our life together – such as it was – was back in Ireland. We've been estranged for years, put time and thousands o' miles between us. There ain't nothin' real there but Kerri, not anymore."

Eden looked down at his chest, her long messy waves falling into her face as she tried to consider that.

Chibs smiled ruefully, lifting a hand to tuck her hair behind her ear and cup her cheek. "Can't deny I come wi' baggage, love. Perils o' getting tangled up wi' an aul' man like me."

"Maybe I like being tangled up with you …" she whispered finally, her words enough to ignite a spark of hope that all was not lost and he leaned in to find her lips with his again. "And I have baggage too."

* * *

Having gone to splash a little cold water on her face, Eden padded back to the bedroom to find Chibs waiting patiently for her, propped up by pillows as he leaned back against the headboard, a lit cigarette idling between his fingers. Instead of slipping back under the covers with him though, she perched at the end of the bed, tugging the sleeves of her borrowed shirt down over her hands nervously.

"It's your turn to hear me out, okay?" she said softly, taking a long, deep breath and then blowing it out, realising she had no idea where to start, not without just plunging right in. "So … you know Seth was in prison, right? Well, it was my fault."

"Seth told me the guy he beat down hurt you," Chibs interjected. "He was defending you – that don't make it your fault."

"But it was," Eden insisted. "I … I should have done more. I should have saved her."

"Who, darlin'?" Chibs tried, not really following her story, but hating to hear the agony creeping into her trembling voice.

Her head was down, her hands playing with her sleeves again, and for a moment, he thought she wasn't going to answer him.

"I wasn't even supposed to be on the night shift," she said suddenly, seeming to change tack completely, but something in the soft, hesitant words that followed made Chibs simply listen rather than push for an explanation. "Perry called in sick last minute, so I said I'd pull a double. I didn't even really mind. It meant partnering up with Felix and we always got on – he even said he'd drive the bus. Cracked some joke about not wanting me asleep at the wheel. It was a busy night. Nothing crazy, just the usual kind of busy. Lot of ODs, a bar brawl, accidental house fire … Lot of walking wounded … Lot of time wasters. We nearly made it through."

Eden broke off to reach for her wine glass and take a sip of what was left, conscious of Chibs and his eyes on her, even though she still had her back to him.

"In the last hour of the shift, we had to respond to a shout right on the edge of our patch," she said finally, feeling like she was right back there in the fading darkness before dawn. "Multi-vehicle pile-up. Multiple casualties. Serious injuries. The scene … The scene was a mess. Worst I'd seen in a long time. Two cars and a coach totalled, a lorry jack-knifed in the middle of it all, and another car jammed almost under it. Glass and metal everywhere. The lorry driver made it out, called 911. Everyone on the coach is walking wounded, apart from the driver who's still behind the wheel and turns out to be having a heart attack. But the cars …"

She took a breath to steady herself again, before realising what she was doing. "Shit, you don't want to hear all this," she said. "I'm rambling and you-"

"I'm listening," the biker said firmly. "No rush."

She nodded slowly, taking another sip of wine, but not even seeming to taste it. "There were police and ambos and fire trucks everywhere. The cars had got the worst of it. Turned out one of them was stolen, hit the other one head-on while trying to overtake the coach, and the lorry and the car behind it were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Front passenger in the stolen car went through the windscreen headfirst, driver's DOA, two in the back are unresponsive. Driver of the other car's got horrific crush injuries. And the third car …" she trailed off, her voice even lower and trembling when she found the words. "They … They were just a normal family. Driving through the night to get to some big family celebration. The mom driving 'cause the dad had a few beers when they stopped for dinner, the kid asleep in the back. The mom was circling the drain when we got to her … The kid was crying, the dad screaming for us to help his wife … It was bad, but there was a chance, you know? I had to help her first … I _had_ to …"

"Oh, darlin'," Chibs sighed softly, knowing exactly how harrowing those choices were from his days as an army medic and fearing he had a fair idea where this story might go – although he couldn't yet fathom what any of it had to do with Seth ending up in bloody prison. "I'm sure you did everything you could."

She shook her head, refusing to hear that. "I should have done more," she said bitterly. "I should have _known_. Instead … Instead, the mom never even made it out of the ambulance and that little girl … That little girl collapsed waiting for her broken arm to be set. She … She died, Filip. She was eight years old and she died and it was all m-my fault …"

Watching her break down quietly with her head in her hands was too much for him to bear and Chibs was out of bed and kneeling in front of her in a second, his hands resting gently on her bare knees as he ducked to try to get her to look at him. "Sweetheart, you can't take that on yourself – you are not to blame. No, listen to me, you're _not_ to blame," he insisted, reaching to tuck her hair back behind her ear. "Internal injuries, complications, that shit happens and sometimes there just ain't anything more you can do. I know it's hard, especially wi' a kid involved, but no one could blame you."

She looked back at him, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks as fast as he could wipe them away with his thumb. "They suspended me."

"Procedure," he countered. "You know that don't mean shit. They cleared you in the end, right?"

"Someone said they'd do anything to sweep it under the carpet."

"What stupid fucker …" Chibs started, until it dawned on him and suddenly he started to see a possible twist in the tale. "The da. Oh, pet, is that it? The da wouldn't let it go? Eden, the man was grieving – he ain't gonna have been in his right mind."

"He said … He said I might as well have … killed them both m-myself," Eden managed, her face crumpling all over again as everything she'd evidently bottled up for far too long came pouring out. "There were notes. At work. On my car. At my apartment. Phone calls, silent mostly. He … He followed me. I knew he was in pain, Filip, but … I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how far he might go. I didn't know how I could make it better. They were gone and it was my f-fault …"

"Jesus Christ," Chibs swore, moving to gather her into his arms and holding her tight as she cried into his chest, shushing her softly as his fingers soothed their way through her hair. "Easy now, love, I've got ya. I've got ya."


	13. Chapter 13

**Thirteen**

"God, I'm so embarrassed," Eden confessed ruefully, returning from another visit to the bathroom, this time having scrubbed off all traces of her well and truly smudged make-up. "We had such a nice evening and then I dump all this shit on you…"

"Don't be," Chibs said simply, reaching for her hand to pull her back down onto the bed beside him. "You've nothing to be embarrassed about – you've been through the wringer, darlin', and you came out the other side. You're a tough wee cookie. I'm glad you felt you could tell me. So … let me guess – the da's the reason Seth ended up inside?"

He gave a low whistle at her brief nod. "Fucking hell, that musta escalated fast. So … how's any o' that connected to whoever's been messaging you tonight? Jesus, the da ain't still on your case, is he?"

Eden heaved a heavy sigh. "No, he finally got the message to back off. But there was another … complication. My ex. Shane. We were based at the same hospital. He was trying to get into neurosurgery. We … We were engaged. Or at least we were until I got suspended. He thought we should … postpone. Said I had too much going on to be thinking about weddings as well."

"Sounds quite the catch," Chibs said, his voice wry. "Very supportive."

"He broke up with me in the end," Eden shrugged. "Until I was cleared, then he tried to pick up where we'd left off."

"Wanker," the biker growled. "Seriously, what kind o' pathetic wee scrote ditches his girl at the first sign o' trouble? And then trying to come crawling back … Is that him sending you messages tonight? It is, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure, but maybe. Probably," Eden admitted. "I don't know how he got this number though. I changed mine after that all happened."

"Change it again. I'll get Bug to sort you out," Chibs offered, making her smile gratefully, even as she dabbed at her eyes again with the ends of her sleeves and raked a hand through her hair, taking a deep shaky breath.

"Thank you," she said softly. "For listening, for … understanding. I can count on one hand the number of people I've been able to talk to properly about this – and two of them are blood. I just … I just don't want you to think I've dumped this on you deliberately. Like I'm some fragile little girl thinking you can fix it all for me or something. I guess I just wanted to … explain. Why I haven't been able to go back to work properly yet, why I don't let a lot of people in. This …" she trailed off, waving a hand between them. "I haven't had anything like this in a long time. And it's not like we even really know each other, but … I guess I do feel like I can trust you, Filip. I don't know why, but I do. I just don't want to fuck this up before we even-"

He cut her off with a firm kiss to shut her up and then pressed another gentler kiss to her forehead, taking her face in his hands to make her look at him. "I'm a big boy, love," he said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Don't you worry, I think I can handle a wee lass like you. If you'll let me. And if we ever manage to get some damn sleep …"

Eden couldn't help laughing in spite of herself, leaning in against him as he grinned and kissed her again. And this time, when they settled comfortably under the covers and she pillowed her head on his inked chest, his fingers trailing slowly through her hair lulled her off into a dreamless sleep.

But her phone, discarded on the nightstand, lit up again. And again. And again.

* * *

In the bright light of day, it was easier for Eden to face up to the idea of her past rearing its head again, however unwanted. She'd finally had a decent night's sleep and, when she had started to mull it all over, as she stood with her head down under the spray of a comforting shower, she soon found herself distracted again by the strong arms that slipped around her.

"Mind if I join ya?" Chibs murmured in her ear, drawing her back against his chest.

"It's your shower …" she managed lightly, glancing back at him as he dropped a little kiss on her shoulder.

"Aye, that it is," he grinned. "But I'm happy to share, lass."

The sex, with the hot water cascading over them both, was slow but intense and she was sure she'd have bruises on her hips from his hands gripping her tight. She certainly wasn't complaining though, having had all thoughts of anything but him pushed firmly out of her mind - at least until she was stood in his kitchen, sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee with her phone in her hand. Her damp hair was twisted up in a loose, messy bun, but she still felt strangely out-of-place in her dress from the night before.

"Mmm, much as I appreciate finding a gorgeous woman in a pretty dress in my kitchen o' a morning …" Chibs drawled, catching her off-guard again as he appeared in his usual denim and leather and snaked an arm around her waist. "How about I drive ya home to change, then ya can come wi' me to the garage to leave Lyla's car back and I'll take ya for that bike ride I promised?"

"Yeah? That sounds good," Eden nodded, one hand absently caressing the arm he had wrapped around her, although she still couldn't help letting her attention drift back to her phone screen.

Chibs frowned as he caught sight of the messages she was scrolling through. "Can I …?" he asked, not really waiting for an answer before plucking the phone out of her hand for a proper look. "Darlin', I know you said you don't know how he got your number, but … How the fuck does he know you ain't been home?"

Eden's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh my god, I didn't even really think … I was so caught up with the idea of him just trying to get in touch again …"

Hating to see her so rattled when she turned to him, Chibs tried to downplay it to reassure her, even though he was reluctant to be almost making excuses for the asshole that seemed to think he still had some kind of claim over the young woman in front of him. "Hey, listen," he tried. "He's just decided to go talk to you in person and you ain't been there. He's a fucking inconsiderate prick carrying on like this, knowing what you've been through, but that's all it is, pet. If he's asking where you are, who you're with … Means he doesn't know. It ain't like he's been stalking you or some shite."

"Are you actually _defending_ him?"

"No, you know I ain't," Chibs said patiently. "I just don't want you scared by shite like this. He can spin his wheels all he likes – ain't gonna get him anywhere."

Eden didn't look convinced, clearly letting her mind race even as he turned her in his arms, his concerned brown eyes roaming over her.

"Eden," he started, reluctant to ask the question, or hear the answer, but needing to know exactly what they were dealing with here. "This Shane guy … Did he … Did he ever hurt you?"

Touched by the worry on his scarred face, Eden reached out to touch her hand to his cheek, shaking her head. "No, not like you're thinking," she said quietly. "You're right. This is probably nothing. I'm just jumpy after … everything. I'm sorry for freaking out."

"Oi," the biker warned roughly, the frown that knitted his brows at odds with the warmth in his voice. "Less o' that, love. You got nothing to apologise for, ya hear me? And as for this clown …" he added, holding up her phone before letting it fall to the floor with a crack and firmly stamping it under the heel of his boot.

"He'll get the message."

* * *

"Morning, boss – can I grab a word?"

Chibs sighed at the greeting from his intelligence officer before he was barely in the door of the garage. Sometimes it felt like there was no let-up from his responsibilities. But he nodded anyway, feeling like he couldn't complain when he had managed a night away from the club against the odds to spend with Eden.

"Aye, come on then," he said, nodding towards the clubhouse and then turning to glance at the young woman behind him. "Won't be long, darlin'. Lyla's probably in the office …"

"Go," Eden smiled, her hands tucked in the back pockets of her snug blue jeans. "I'll be fine."

And sure enough, Lyla had already spotted them through the office window and was waving to her to join her.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the dirty stop-outs," the little blonde beamed, ushering her new friend into a seat at the other side of a desk piled high with paperwork. "How was your date? I want details, missy!"

"We had a lovely evening," Eden grinned, already feeling her cheeks flush under Lyla's questioning.

"So where'd he take you?" she prompted.

"Giovanni's …"

"Aww, Chibby, you old romantic," Lyla sighed in approval. "I did have high hopes when he asked to borrow the car, but still, some of these guys aren't exactly known for putting in the effort. And after? Yours? Please tell me he didn't bring you back to the clubhouse …"

"We went to his actually," Eden shrugged, noting the eyebrows that shot up at that. "What?"

"No, nothing," Lyla said hastily. "I'm just … surprised. You really did get the special treatment. I'm glad. Chibs deserves a little loving, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't have to work for it."

"He told me about his wife," Eden blurted out, making Lyla's face fall.

"Oh, shit," she sighed, wiping a hand over her face. "Jesus, Chibs, _really?_ I mean, I'm not saying I want him lying to you or anything, but on a date? Ugh … You let him explain though, right? I mean, you're still here and you've got that kinda glow going on that makes me think you definitely got some action …"

"It's not ideal, I guess," Eden said quietly. "I mean, legally he's still married, they have a child together … It's not like I'm getting ahead of myself - we're just … seeing what happens. But I guess I just never saw myself getting involved with a married man."

"I get that," Lyla nodded. "But honestly, Eden, he's not some player. I dunno how much he told you, but that man's had his heart broken, more than once – he wouldn't set out to hurt you."

"I know," she admitted, her mind drifting to how gentle and attentive the biker could be, his strong hands caressing her tenderly, soft kisses igniting a fire inside her.

"Earth to Eden," Lyla called, giggling as she realised how much the other woman's mind had wandered. "Wow, that good, huh?"

But Eden just blushed under her good-natured teasing.

* * *

"Here's a phone for Eden like you asked, boss," Bug said, handing over a new smart phone. "I've set up the basics, new number and all that, but she can just go ahead and add whatever she wants – apps, social media, whatever. She, uh, gonna be around more? Want me to get her a few club numbers, put hers on our list?"

Sensing that was the intelligence officer's way of fishing, Chibs ignored it for now. Truth be told, he hadn't actually thought about where things stood with the pretty paramedic. Not really. Although he knew that wasn't something he could put off for too long. Not in this game. He liked her. A lot, if he was honest. He didn't want his lifestyle being something that left her exposed to risks.

"We'll see," he said vaguely, for now. "That it?"

"Uh, no actually," Bug said, turning to gather a pile of documents left on the reaper table. "As requested. Everything I could get my hands on linked to Johnny Six and the War Boys. Fuck, sounds like some shit rock band, don't it?"

"Anything ring any alarm bells?" Chibs demanded, taking the stack of files.

"Not that immediately jumps out, but I only got some of the stuff back this morning, so I haven't had a chance to even skim that. This has been your turf a lot longer than mine though. Thought you'd want to have a look."

"Aye," the president sighed. "Thanks, brother."

"I can stash it for you for now, if you want?" Bug offered, a knowing little grin tugging at his lips. "You got company after all …"

"It can probably keep for an hour or two, can't it?"

"An hour or two? Wouldn't have had you down for that kinda stamina …" Bug noted, laughing at the mock-glare on his president's face.

"Cheeky bastard," Chibs growled, slinging an arm around the younger man's neck and letting it tighten into a playful headlock. "We're heading out on the bike, for your information. If the rest o' them are looking for me, tell them to fuck away off unless it's life or death, got it?"

"Got it," Bug agreed.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks to all those reading, reviewing and PMing - it's always a nice little spur on to hear what people think!**

* * *

**Fourteen**

When Chibs finally sat down to pour over the documents Bug had pulled together, it was with a lighter heart. Few things were more freeing than cruising along with the throaty thrum of a Harley in the air, the wind in your hair, and a beautiful girl pressed tight up against you. Everything else just faded into so much scenery.

He'd found himself concentrating a little more than usual at first, conscious as he was that Eden had never ridden on a motorcycle before. But as she relaxed into it, so did he. He could feel the tension slipping away as his bike ate up mile after mile of dusty road, her hold on him becoming less about fear and more about enjoying that closeness. Although he couldn't help chuckling when he shifted one hand from the handlebars to cover hers as they locked over his chest, raising her fingers to his lips for a quick kiss and feeling her grip tighten again nervously.

She'd had fun though – he knew that from her bright-eyed, windswept response when they'd finally pulled over at a roadside diner, laughing as she threw herself into his arms and told him it had felt like flying.

He'd still been grinning when he'd tucked his riding glasses into the top pocket of his leather jacket and they'd strolled inside, her arm wrapped around his waist as he draped his over her shoulders to keep her close. They'd sat opposite each other in a cosy little booth, chatting and laughing easily over surprisingly good coffee and even better apricot cobbler and it was a tough call, but in that moment, he'd thought he would choose this version of Eden – in her ripped jeans and simple t-shirt – even over the more polished beauty in the pretty dress.

Because, right then, he'd been able to imagine her in his world. Being his.

Just as he had when that thought had struck him, Chibs shook his head and tried to focus on the task in hand. He knew all too well there was no point in setting himself up for a fall. She was a smart, beautiful woman with a proper job to get back to – a life an outlaw had no business being a part of. And, sooner or later, the novelty of getting caught up with the likes of him was sure to wear off.

He sighed at that, taking a swig of the whiskey he'd poured before he'd sat down to try to concentrate. He was too old to get carried away with fanciful notions, so why was the thought of having to let her go weighing on him like it was? Great company, incredible sex – frankly, he should have been thanking his lucky stars she'd even given him a second glance in the first place, not moping over something he knew could never last.

But the truth was that even the little mundane moments of their time together lingered in his mind. Undressing her, taking her to bed, making her come for him … It was only to be expected that would leave a lasting memory. But everything else seemed equally imprinted on his brain. The sparkle of her eyes, the sight of her in his shirt without so much as a scrap of make-up, her hand in his as they'd headed out of the diner and back to where his bike was parked up.

With her warmth and how easy she was to be around ... She reminded him a little of Aoife*.

He drank deeply at that, his grip on the glass tightening before he banged it down on the table. Girls with brothers who didn't approve seemed to be his kryptonite – although he'd never in a million years link the likeable, protective Seth with an utter bastard like Jimmy O.

"Get yer head in the fucking game, boyo," he muttered, in a stern warning to himself as he turned his attention finally back to the papers in front of him.

There was work to be done.

* * *

"I said we should have fucking struck when the time was right …"

Johnny Quincy narrowed his eyes dangerously at the muttered discontent. "The fuck did you say?"

"Nothing," came the sulky mumble.

"Nah, you got something to say, so let's hear it," the War Boys president declared, standing up so suddenly his chair overturned. "You got the table, asshole – have at it!"

His sergeant-at-arms was clearly regretting opening his mouth in the first place, but finally slammed a hand down on the table and decided it was too late to turn back anyway. "Fine! I just think it's fucked up that we waited with our thumbs up our asses when anyone could see we had the perfect chance to make our move. That lot were reeling after Teller. Wouldn't have been hard to take the Sons out of the picture for good."

"So you think you could have done better, huh? You want to challenge for the gavel, huh, Mack?"

"I ain't saying that-"

"Sure as shit sounds like it. How about the rest of you? Anyone else thinking they know better?"

"No one's saying that, Johnny," his vice-president finally, reluctantly, spoke up. He was still feeling the effects of the concussion he'd suffered in the ring, both eyes still black above where his broken nose had been reset. This was the last thing he needed right now, but someone had to calm this shit down. Again.

"Maybe that's the problem. Bunch of pussies too scared to say shit. Don't stop 'em thinking it. I need to know you lot are behind me one hundred percent. _One hundred percent._ You think Telford's over there wondering if his guys have his back? Not a motherfucking chance."

"If you think they're so much better than us, why don't you go join them?" Mack spat suddenly. "See if they'll let you in-"

His words were cut off with a fist to the face and that was only the start of it, a full-blown brawl breaking out in the basement that served as the so-called headquarters of the newly reinstated War Boys MC.

"Fuck me," Archie Vane sighed, wincing as he wiped a hand over his face, momentarily forgetting about the injuries he'd suffered facing the Sons of Anarchy president in the ring. Not for the first time, he couldn't help wondering why the fuck he'd let himself be talked into patching for this goddamn club in the first place.

In fact, if Johnny hadn't been his brother-in-law, he'd have flat out refused. It had potential, sure. But it also seemed to be a disaster waiting to happen. Recruitment had not exactly gone to plan. Anyone with serious outlaw ambition wanted to join the Sons or the Grim Bastards – not that a lot of people had wanted anything to do with either of them over the last couple of years, given everything that had gone down across San Joaquin County. The rest … just wanted to play at it, like it was some dick-swinging contest. That made them nothing but a liability.

Not that it had stopped Johnny from patching a half-dozen of guys just like that, much to Archie's disapproval. Mack, otherwise known as Mackenzie Rockwell, was one of them. A hothead, quick with his mouth and with his fists. Unlike his brother Shane who would have been a much smarter option, in Archie's opinion, had he not been too firmly a part of the more respectable side of the community.

Watching grim-faced as Johnny overpowered his sergeant and landed a few more brutal punches before stepping back out of breath, Archie shook his head and forced himself to say nothing. He was sure his president had gotten one thing right though – his counterpart in Charming would never have to wonder if his men had his back. Even from what little they'd seen of them, it was clear the Sons were as loyal to Chibs Telford as they had been to Jax Teller and that wasn't something born out of fear or convenience, not like it was with Johnny.

The Sons were a brotherhood and their leader had their respect, their trust, even their love.

"Fucking pussies," Johnny had scoffed once, when he'd tried to point that out.

He wouldn't be saying that, Archie thought, if it came down to finding out who would take a bullet for him. Telford, he suspected, would have that level of devotion from any of his men.

Johnny would be lucky if it wasn't one of his behind the trigger.

* * *

That couldn't be right.

Chibs flicked from one document to the other, the frown on his face only deepening as he did so. Jesus Christ. For once in his unfortunate life, why couldn't anything just be straight-forward?

He swore as he knocked back the rest of his whiskey, wiping his short beard with his hand and trying to figure out just how much of a problem this was. Her name was the last he had ever suspected he would stumble across like this. Still … It wasn't like she was affiliated. The tie wasn't blood and, as far as she was concerned, it seemed pretty clear that it had already been severed anyway.

"Fucking MC wannabes," he muttered darkly.

The War Boys had once been a reputable club, he'd give them that. But there seemed to be nothing left of that and this shower of assorted thugs and misfits spelled nothing but trouble. That wasn't good for anyone - not with the potential for fall-out to land on anyone in the vicinity, whether they were affiliated or not. He dreaded to think how their ineptitude would leave them all exposed if they really did intend getting into the serious business of gun-running. He also had no idea why they seemed intent on drifting into their turf, when the club had originally been firmly based in San Bernardino.

Going off what he'd now learned, it appeared Johnny Six, as he liked to call himself, was actually third generation MC – a grandson of original War Boys founding member Ron Quincey – but he seemed to be the only current member with any pedigree of sorts. His VP Archie Vane also had a few loose mob connections, but the rest seemed to be a mixture of petty criminals and civilians playing at being outlaws. They even had a guy who was a dentist, for Christ's sake.

"Can you say mid-life crisis?" Chibs had sighed, on discovering that particular titbit. "Why can't these arseholes just shag a hooker and buy a Porsche like the rest o' their sort?"

He'd cut off that train of thought though, wondering if everyone else thought his dalliance with a much younger woman was just some kind of mid-life crisis. And then wondering why he cared if he was trying to tell himself it would never last anyway.

But just as he was trying to explain all that away in his own mind, her name was jumping out at him from the page and he was suddenly completely focused.

Fuck.

War Boys sergeant-at-arms Mackenzie Rockwell had thrown up the connection. Or at least one of his brothers had – Shane Rockwell. A doctor at San Joaquin General Hospital and the subject of an apparently lapsed restraining order, taken out by one Eden Catherine Moore.

_Fuck._

Bug, according to his hastily scribbled notes, hadn't been sure if this Shane was also part of the club, but had included him in his findings just in case. Chibs, knowing what he did about his surgical career ambitions from what Eden had told him, doubted he'd be a signed-up member of something that could bring any kind of heat. Still, it was a nasty little connection he hadn't been expecting.

And he still wasn't sure what it might mean, if anything.

With any luck, the latest reincarnation of the War Boys was just a fly-by-night fad waiting to burn out. He couldn't imagine they posed any serious kind of threat. Not intentionally anyway.

Pouring another glass of whiskey, Chibs sipped it and let his eyes drift closed as he tilted his chair back to think. He had no idea if Eden even realised the connection, much less its implications, and he didn't want to give her anymore cause for concern. On the other hand, if she didn't realise exactly who she was dealing with …

He reached for his phone and the scrap of paper with her new number scribbled on it. He'd been contemplating whether he should put a little distance between them, not let either of them get too attached … His hand hovered, on the verge of setting the phone back down, but then before he could overthink it, he was dialling the number.

"Hi, darlin'," he drawled, trying to ignore the way his heart lifted just hearing her voice. He didn't bother telling her who it was – how many Glaswegians could she know, for fuck's sake? "Sorry, I know tomorrow's your first day back at work … Can you spin by after? Don't matter how late."

He gazed down at the document gripped in his hand as he listened to her response. "Nah, nothing urgent," he said. "Just need to see ya."

It wasn't a lie. Not entirely.

* * *

***Aoife - common name in Ireland, meaning 'radiant, beautiful, or joyful', and most often pronounced Ee-fah.  
She's introduced as a character in my previous fic Scars, which deals with Chibs' backstory and which I'm keeping as his backstory in this. If I said her full name was Aoife O'Phelan, that might be a clue as to how that plays out ...**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Don't get too used to the swift updates - real life doesn't normally allow for it, but I've got a little bit more time to write at the minute, so I thought I'd make the most of it. Call it a wee Halloween present, although maybe you won't thank me for it ... ;)**

* * *

**Fifteen**

Slipping into the driver's seat of her car, Eden slumped forward until her forehead was resting on the steering wheel and took a long, deep breath. Day one done.

It had been a long day, full of routine admin stuff designed to allow those returning to work from a hiatus find their feet. But of course, she'd never really had time to fit in at St Thomas in the first place, having transferred there from San Joaquin General shortly after being cleared by the investigation that had gone on while she'd been suspended. She'd thought a fresh start would be for the best, but the job itself had quickly proved too much after everything that had happened and she'd ended up taking what had quietly been put down as a career break after just a few months in the post.

Some break, with her life seeming to fall apart at every turn and her brother in prison.

She forced herself to take another long deep breath and then sat back in her seat. That was all behind them now and she had to stop the past creeping back into her mind. It was long past time to move forward.

It was going to be tough when the real work started again, not letting everything that had escalated from that one terrible night knock her confidence anymore. But, actually, she'd rather get back to answering shouts, helping people – she wasn't cut out for an office job, not if her day of red tape and paperwork was anything to go by. At least a week or two of nine-to-five life would give her time to adjust though. And she wouldn't be too late spinning by the clubhouse to see what Chibs wanted. Not wanted … _Needed._

_Just need to see ya. _

His words echoed in her mind, but the thought of that warm lilting accent for once only drew a faint smile that didn't quite take hold. Something about his request to see her felt … off. In a way she couldn't quite put her finger on.

_Just need to see ya._

Need, not want.

Need could have been cause to feel flattered, she supposed – speaking of some kind of burning desire. But this didn't feel like the biker she'd somehow become entangled with reaching out with a social invitation. It felt more like being summoned by the Samcro president. Although she imagined there had been others who didn't get the luxury of a polite phone call …

Meeting her own gaze in the rear-view mirror, Eden reached up to pull her long hair free of the tie securing her high bun and raked her fingers through the tousled ombre waves to tame them. She'd already changed in the staff locker room into blue jeans, a soft white shirt, and stiletto-heeled red ankle boots, and now she added a subtle swipe of lipstick before deciding that would have to do.

She couldn't deny the thought had crossed her mind that her connection to the biker may force her to quickly decide just how close she wanted to get – to him and his club. She knew by now that he had medical training too, but her access to supplies gave her a definite edge. Was she prepared to let him exploit that though, knowing she was inadvertently already on shaky ground when it came to her career?

Could that be why he needed to see her? Something about helping the club? Surely not, not in a medical sense anyway, or it probably couldn't have waited until after she was done for the day. And if it wasn't medical, how else could she be of any use?

Starting up the engine, Eden sighed as she realised she hadn't answered her own questions about how deep she was prepared to get. And the simple truth was that she didn't know. She hadn't exactly paused to think it all through before ending up in bed with the rugged Scotsman. Although …

She was already starting to realise it wasn't quite true that she didn't know. Because her mind had already started to conjure up scenarios she didn't really want to think about, but couldn't seem to avoid – images of the scarred biker further down the line, shot or stabbed or having come off his bike. And she knew right then there was nothing she wouldn't do, no rule she wouldn't break, to help him.

And once you went down that road, it wasn't too hard to imagine saying yes to anything else he might ask. No matter how great the risk.

* * *

"The fuck d'ya want, prospect?" Chibs snapped, already knowing why Charlie would dare disturb them when church was in session, but feeling the need to maintain the pecking order. He couldn't let the lad have too easy a run through his year, even if he was still keeping a close eye to make sure no one went overboard on that.

"Sorry," the young man stammered, still bearing an impressive array of bruises in a variety of shades of green and purple from his ill-fated boxing exploits. "I wouldn't interrupt, only you told me to. When Eden got here. And, well, she's here. You want me to tell her to wait?"

The natural instinct to make the boy jump through hoops nearly kicked in, but actually, Chibs had to give it to him - he had asked to be told as soon as their visitor appeared. And, now that he knew she was right there on the other side of the door, his desire for answers was hard to put off even a minute longer.

"Nah, send her in," Chibs decided, countering the raised eyebrows of his men with a thump of the gavel on the table. "We're done here for now and I need a word."

With church dismissed, the gathered Sons rose from their places and headed for the door.

"Respect the reaper, brother," Tig, last to leave as he was, said in mock-warning. "No fucking on that table."

Chibs flipped him the bird with a smirk and then settled back in his chair to wait for Eden. He could hear her gently scolding Charlie for not icing his injuries enough and then she was hesitantly stepping into the room, letting the prospect who'd shown her the way close the door behind her.

"Hey," she said, looking just a little unsure. "Uh, should I be in here?"

"Church ain't in session," Chibs said, fishing his smokes and lighter from his pocket and setting about sparking up. "You're good."

"Am I?" she said lightly. "Because I have to admit … I kinda feel like I've been called to the principal's office."

Under different circumstances, he'd probably have enjoyed making her blush with a naughty schoolgirl joke, but for once, he had more pressing matters on his mind.

"Filip?" she prompted. "Has something happened? Is something wrong?"

He frowned at the anxious edge to her voice, hating to hear it and hating even more to be the cause of it. But then he let himself remember the clusterfuck that had exploded at the heart of his club once before, and all down to people who should have been able to love and trust each other completely, instead of getting twisted up and bringing a lifetime worth of pain down on all of them. She couldn't get a free pass. No one could.

"I have to ask you some questions," he said, steeling himself to keep his tone detached, his expression neutral. "And I'm gonna need the truth, lass. Take a seat."

* * *

For a long moment, Chibs thought she was going to defy him, but Eden eyed the table encircled as it was by vacant chairs and finally sat, taking what was Bug's usual seat and crossing those long, slim legs. She met his gaze with a coolness he hadn't expected.

"Who's asking these questions?" she asked evenly. "Filip Telford, or the Sons of Anarchy? The man I've been sleeping with, or the Samcro president?"

"There ain't no difference, darlin'. Sooner you learn that the better."

She raised her eyebrows at his short response and then folded her arms across her chest, a hard glint in her green eyes that he hadn't seen before.

"Eden …" he sighed, already regretting that he'd clearly pissed her off with how he was handling this.

"Just ask your questions, Filip. Unless you're waiting for me to call my lawyer."

He gritted his teeth, letting her away with the dig since he supposed he was probably coming across like an arsehole, given all that had transpired between them. That'd teach him to do his due diligence _before_ letting his dick do his thinking. "Right," he said, hands braced on the table in front of him. "Shane Rockwell …"

Her double-take was obvious, even before she uncrossed her legs and leaned forward in her seat, a shadow crossing her face. "Where did you get that name? I didn't tell you Shane's last name."

"Any reason for that?"

"I didn't think it mattered," Eden shot back. "Don't try to turn this back on me. Why do you know his name? Why would you be digging through my life?"

"Oh, come on, you're smarter than that," Chibs shrugged. "Look around, darlin'. You think we let just anyone come and go round here?"

She supposed, if she was honest, she'd expected as much. But getting hit with such a personal connection so unexpectedly, especially one that had been the source of so much distress, had put her on edge. "If you want to get to know someone, it's traditional to just _ask_," she said tightly. "I don't have anything to hide, if that's what you're thinking. I told you as much as I did because I trusted you. If I held anything back, it was because no one wants War and Peace on someone's exes. Usually. I guess I should have realised you'd apparently want to vet anyone I've ever been with."

His patience with letting her paint him as the bad guy in this was starting to wear a little thin, but he forced himself to keep his cool for a change. "You know who I am, lass. What beings here means. But for the record, we weren't digging into _you_. No, your name cropping up like it did … Not something we saw coming."

"I … I don't understand," she said.

"Your boy Shane's connection to another MC-"

"Wait, what? That can't be right," Eden interjected, her tone incredulous. "Shane in a club like this? That's gotta be some kind of joke – there's no way!"

"Didn't say he was in an MC, just connected," Chibs corrected. But her reaction, total and seemingly genuine shock, went a long way towards already putting his mind at ease. Unless she was an Oscar-worthy actress, she had no idea of her ex's family ties. And, despite his obvious reasons to want to believe that, he didn't think he was wrong about her. He'd have known if she was acting.

He wouldn't have wanted to admit it, but he'd have known.

"Connected how?"

"You know his brother?"

Eden shook her head. "No. I mean, I knew he had one. Vaguely. They weren't close. From what little Shane told me, I could never quite work out which one of them was the black sheep of the family."

"Mackenzie Rockwell," Chibs supplied. "Sergeant for the War Boys MC. Equivalent o' our Happy – although I doubt the comparison's strictly accurate and I wouldn't want to offend Hap."

"The War Boys …" Eden repeated, sounding like she thought it might be familiar and putting him a little on edge again, until it dawned on her. "The fight night. They were involved. You fought one of them."

"Aye," he nodded. "That the only time you've come across them?"

"Yes. I had no idea … Was Shane's brother there? I don't know what he looks like …"

"Probably."

Eden sat back to consider that. "So you were actually digging into this other club? But how did you know the Shane you came across was the same one I told you about?"

Chibs looked away for a second, a flicker of guilty conscience making it onto his face before he could smother it down and meet her gaze again head on. "I know about the restraining order, love," he said gently.

She closed her eyes. "Of _course_ you do. Jesus Christ."

"Eden …"

"Don't," she snapped, standing up suddenly, seeming torn between wanting to ask how and just wanting to put as much distance as she could between them. "Just … don't."

"Eden, wait," he tried, on his feet and grabbing her arm before she could reach the door, cursing having caused the look on her face when she was forced to turn back to him, shame clearly jostling with hurt and anger. "The order's lapsed and I know this guy's been hassling you with those messages. Let me-"

She pulled her arm free. "I'm not your problem, Filip. I have to go."

Left staring at the door after she had slipped through it and closed it in his face, Chibs slammed a hand against the heavy wood before tilting his head back and growling in frustration.

"_Fuck._"


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Seeing as it's still holiday time, I figured I could manage another instalment lol ...**

**Also, just to quickly answer a few questions that I realised I'd overlooked - I'm not sure exactly how long this fic will turn out, but I do know the story I want to tell and how it will (probably) end, so I'd say we've got a ways to go. Eden does at least know Fiona and Kerrianne exist and Chibs' past, including his family and everything that happened with Jimmy O and Aoife (the latter being an original character from my story Scars), will crop up again. I'm not sure if I'll go too much into the detail of that backstory from Scars here, probably not, but it will have had a lasting effect on Chibs, so it makes sense that Eden would find out. Oh, and while this will get dark at times, there are also some lighter moments to come. **

**As always, thanks for reading and feedback or questions are always welcome!**

* * *

**Sixteen**

Weeks had passed without a word from Eden, not that Chibs had either the time or the inclination to make a fool of himself calling every five minutes. Seeds of discontent had been sown on the streets – at least some of it seeming to stem from rumours of a new player in the form of the reinstated War Boys – and he'd had that to navigate around. He had called a couple of times though, left a message asking her to call him … Nothing.

Part of him had tried telling himself it was probably for the best. Clean break before anyone got any ideas or things got any more complicated than they already were. Especially if fresh trouble was brewing when they were still trying to get out from under the rubble of all that had gone down in what were to be the final months of his predecessor's reign.

_It ain't easy being king …_

He couldn't remember if that had been Clay or Jax's line. He was certainly finding out the truth of it though.

And while part of him was trying the _for the best_ spin on for size, the other part was unable to feel anything but regret for how things had panned out. He got why the girl was so upset though. It was clear she hadn't quite told him the whole story of her past, but he'd known enough to realise trust was bound to be a big deal for her. And as far as she was concerned, whatever his motives, he'd violated that. He could argue all day that he hadn't, or at least that he hadn't meant to, but it didn't change how she'd been made to feel. Like her private life was suddenly out there on display, tied up with club business. It was the last thing he'd wanted.

She had _nothing_ to be ashamed of though. And suddenly determined to tell her that, he'd finally given in and gone looking for her in person. Turning up at her work was a definite no-no, given the circumstances – he didn't want to make things worse – so he'd tried the apartment she shared with Seth when he'd thought she might reasonably have down time, only to find neither of them were home.

He could have tried tapping Lyla for information, since the two of them seemed friendly, but again, he didn't want Eden thinking he was broadcasting her business to the world. So that left the gym. And running the gauntlet with its owner.

"Course she'd have to have a brother built like a fucking tank," Chibs groused under his breath, climbing off his bike when he'd parked up outside the Scrapyard, rolling his shoulder muscles as he headed inside, like he was maybe preparing for an onslaught as soon as he set foot in the place.

Sure enough, Seth was in the ring with one of his fighters, holding up training pads to receive flurry after flurry of powerful blows.

"Go warm down," he ordered the young man, before turning his attention to Chibs. "So what part of me warning you I'd destroy you did you somehow not get?"

"Hey, listen-"

"Chill, dude, I'm yanking your chain," Seth shrugged, jumping down from the apron of the ring. "You think I got the time or the energy to lose my shit any time my sister has a tiff with some guy? Prison, as I'm sure you know, _not_ real fun – so, you cheat on her, I beat you bloody. You lay a hand on her, I beat you bloody. She gets hurt because of you … You get the picture. So let's just say we're saving the bloodshed for the big shit, okay?"

Chibs conceded that was probably fair with a wry look and a nod. "She here?"

"Depends. You gonna piss her off some more? Think I got a right to know, given I'm the one who's gotta actually live with her …"

"Not planning on it," the biker drawled, cocking his head on one side as he considered that. "But then I wasn't exactly planning on it last time either."

"Yeah, I hear that. She's out back."

Chibs started to head in the direction Seth had jerked his head, only to stop in his tracks. "Seth, mate …"

"Oh no, do not drag me into it. Whatever the fuck's under her skin, that is all you, pal."

"Shane Rockwell-"

"_Fuck_," Seth swore darkly. "Now there's an asshole I shoulda put down years ago. Did Eden actually tell you about him? He ain't back on the scene, is he?"

"She told me some," Chibs said carefully. "Stumbled across some more. Still not sure I got the whole picture. Look, I get that she'll probably be even more fucked off with me for asking you, but … I can't make sure she's safe if I dunno what the fuck I'm dealing wi' here."

"You think she ain't safe?"

"I dunno, man – I ain't looking to ring any alarm bells. I just … feel like there's something I'm missing."

Seth cast his eyes towards the ceiling, seeming to weigh up which was the lesser of two evils, betraying Eden's trust or leaving her exposed to risk, and finally heaved a sigh. "My office. Now."

* * *

Oblivious to Seth's unexpected visitor, Eden – having already beat the shit out of a punch bag for the better part of an hour – was out in the gym's enclosed backyard, skipping with a jump-rope in the golden glow of the late evening sun. She'd stripped down to shorts and a sports bra and beads of sweat glistened on her tan skin as she pushed herself on, music pumping from the buds jammed in her ears.

It was her way of shutting out the world. And she needed to right now, what with her past seeming intent on coming roaring back into her life at every turn. Between Shane trying to reach out from whatever rock he'd crawled under, and getting back on the road at work and all the terrible memories that was dredging up … She didn't want to admit it, but she wasn't exactly in the best place.

Plus she'd decided whatever might have been growing between her and the Samcro president had probably fizzled out. She'd been more freaked out than she liked to think by his discovery of the lengths she'd had to go to in order to try to get back some control of her life and maybe she'd overreacted, having told herself that was all behind her. That no one would have to know how weak she'd been. How weak Shane had made her.

Pushing the biker away though … He wasn't going to stand for that. Why would he? There was a clubhouse full of attractive, willing women who weren't going to add complications or drama to his life. He'd move on. Probably already had.

Eden gritted her teeth at that thought, speeding up the jump-rope and hearing it smack off the ground ever more aggressively, even over the music and the sound of her own heart thumping in her ears.

Fucking Shane. Even when he wasn't there, he was still screwing up her life.

_Fuck._

* * *

"Shane Rockwell's dangerous."

"Consider yer audience, mate," Chibs sighed. "Practically every fucker I deal wi' is dangerous. What we talking here? Violent, reckless, what?"

"How much did Eden tell you?"

"Enough to know she's been through hell. The crash, losing the mum and wee girl, the fall-out wi' work, wi' the da … And that this Shane prick pretty much walked out on her in the middle o' it all."

"Shit, she told you more than I'd expected," Seth said, looking surprised. "So, how did you end up pissing her off? 'Cause it sounds like she really fucking trusted you."

"Aye, that might be the problem," Chibs said grimly. "To cut a long story short, we maybe got a problem wi' a rival MC. Had to do some digging – it threw up some red flags. Eden's name came up."

"Connected to an MC? That's bullshit, she's never-"

"This Shane's apparently got a brother who's patched."

"Jesus … And this club? They bad news? Got some kinda beef with the Sons?"

"Not historically. But looks like new blood looking to make their mark. It … could be an issue."

"But you know Eden's not connected to all that, right? Is that what's put some kinda rift between you two?"

Chibs shook his head, raking a hand through his short silver hair. "It ain't that. It's how I found out. What I found out. We looked into backgrounds of all the patched members we could, family connections, criminal associates, everything. So Shane came up in his brother's records … And, well, we got intel to say he was the subject of a restraining order. Taken out by Eden."

"Getting the law involved, she had no choice – the fucker wouldn't learn when to quit."

"I get that. But Eden …" Chibs trailed off, heaving a heavy sigh. "She's hurt I was able to find out that level of detail about her life, I guess. Like you said, she trusted me and now it feels like I went prying behind her back. I'm sorry she's upset, man, but … I'd have gotten there one way or the other. You know the position I'm in. No one gets close without getting looked at. If things had keeping going the way they were wi' us … I'd have had to do something anyway. Cut her loose, or … bring her closer."

Seth sat back in his swivel chair, trying to take all that in and wiping his hands over his face. "So, where do things stand now? With you two?"

Chibs met his gaze openly. "Honestly? I ain't got a clue. She could tell me to fuck off …"

"And how would that go?"

"Well, I wouldn't be happy about it, but she wouldn't need a fucking restraining order, I can tell ya that much." Chibs said, before deciding he might as well level with the guy, even if it was his little sister they were talking about. "Look, Seth, she's … she's a good girl-"

"She is."

"And maybe a man like me's got no business trying to keep this going, whatever _this_ is, but …"

"You care about her."

The biker was silent for a long time, mulling it over, weighing it up in his mind, trying to come to any other conclusion than the one seeming to smack him square in the face. "Aye," he gave in finally. "Aye, I do."

Seth considered that. "Then you need to hear the whole story."

* * *

"So, you said this Shane arsehole's dangerous …"

Seth nodded grimly, his fists inadvertently clenching at the mention of the name. "Because he's devious," he said. "Manipulative. Don't underestimate him, Chibs. You might think the shit you're used to dealing with makes him seem like … nothing. But that's where he has the advantage. He's this shit-hot surgeon, respectable – on the surface at least. The slippery bastard always manages to come up smelling of roses."

The biker thought he knew exactly the type and he could already see where the danger lay in dealing with someone like that. They always seemed to end up with more power than they should have.

"Eden … She's a smart chick, you know," Seth said. "She ain't some airhead and she ain't the sort to have her head turned by a doctor, thinking they're all that. But that fucker … He played the long game. Got in her head. Put insecurities there. Played on them. He didn't want a girlfriend, a wife. He wanted a _trophy_. Someone dependent on him. Oh, he hated the idea that Eden could have messed up with that crash – like it tainted him by association. But once she was in the clear … It suited him to try to get her back. When she'd been through hell, when she was at her lowest. _Vulnerable._"

Toying absently with the heavy gold skulls and cross ring he wore, Chibs eyed the gym owner, unsure if the question on his lips was going to get a response.

"How bad we talking here?" he asked finally.

Seth looked away and swallowed hard, clearly struggling with memories of what had happened. "If it had just been Rockwell, it would have been … manageable. But with him piling on the pressure on top of … on top of that guy out of his mind with grief and looking for someone to blame … It was too much. It was all too much. I'm gonna level with you here, man – there was a time I thought we were gonna lose her. Nothing anyone else said was getting through to her. She was blaming herself for everything. She couldn't sleep, or when she did, she had nightmares about that crash, about the kid. She was in such a bad place and I had no idea how to help her. I … I could fucking see how it could play out. Coming home some night, finding her … She's my baby sister, Chibs. She scared the shit outta me."

"Fucking hell," Chibs exhaled, concern written plainly across his face. "And now?"

"She ain't weak, I don't want you thinking that," Seth said, an almost angry tinge to his tone. "She got through it. I was worried when I had to go inside … But she got through that too. I just don't want that fucker back in her life, back in her head. She'd really turned a corner, man. She's been _happy_. Well, mostly …"

"Until I fucked it up," Chibs sighed, wiping a hand over his face. "Shit."

"Doesn't sound like it's really you that's the problem. And trust me, if it was, I'd tell you."

"So … I gotta ask … You going inside – how'd that go down?"

Seth looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the memory. "That grieving dad? Frank Powell. He spun off the rails. Booze, drugs, the works. And his fixation with Eden … He just wouldn't let it go. Needed someone to blame that wasn't him. See, it turned out he'd been drinking the night of the crash, was rowing with the wife, she took her eyes off the road. It still wasn't really either of their faults, that was all on the shithead in the stolen car. But in his mind, if he'd been driving, or they hadn't been arguing, or a thousand what ifs …"

"Eden told me he pretty much stalked her," Chibs said, by way of a gentle prompt when the gym owner trailed off again. "I'm guessing she maybe just gave me the broad strokes."

"Yeah, and let's just say the devil's in the detail. He terrorised her for months. 'Til one night, she woke up and found him in her house. There was a struggle. She had no idea how far he intended to go."

"She called you for help," Chibs guessed.

Seth nodded. "And I beat the shit out of him. Put him in a coma. I ain't proud of it – I know what he'd lost, I'd know he was sick. But she is my _sister_ and he was out of his goddamn mind. He … He could have really hurt her, man. Killed her. Raped her. Who knows what the fuck he was thinking? I wasn't gonna wait to find out."

"Attempted murder though?" Chibs asked sceptically. "Surely under the circumstances, any lawyer worth their fucking salt coulda talked that down? He broke into her fucking home!"

Seth shrugged wearily. "Powell's an ex-cop …" he said, trailing off as if that said it all.

And for Chibs, his jaw tensing angrily, it did.

* * *

Still pushing herself harder than usual, Eden only broke off from her workout long enough to dash sweat from her brow with her arm, catching sight as she did so of her brother at the door that led out to the yard. And of someone else stood in the shadows behind him.

"Eden? Got a visitor," he called.

Suspecting, she tried to ignore the flutter somewhere in the pit of her stomach, studiously ignoring him. But she couldn't help watching from the corner of her eye as the figure stepped into the light. She tried to just keep going, to keep her ragged breathing under control, but she'd already had to blink away spots that danced in front of her eyes and when one of them – she couldn't be sure which – called out again, they seemed much further away than they should, the voice almost drowned out by the incessant thump of the jump-rope and the even faster pounding of her heart.

"Eden?"

It was definitely the Scotsman that time. She'd caught the accent, even before he continued his appeal.

"Just hear me out, darlin'. Then if you want me to go, I'll go—_Eden!_"

The shout of alarm was the last thing she heard before the already blurring world shrank into nothing, darkness washing over her as she crumpled lifeless to the ground.


	17. Chapter 17

**Seventeen**

"Would you two stop fucking _fussing_ – I'm not a child!" Eden snapped, trying to get up from the examination bed in one of the gym's rooms reserved for medical treatment, even as Seth firmly pushed her back down.

"You were unconscious!" her worried brother shot back.

"I just fainted for a second. Pushed myself too hard, let myself get dehydrated. Stupid, I know."

Seth gave her a long searching look, trying to establish if that was the truth, and then headed for the door. "I'm gonna go get you some water. Don't. Move."

With a strangled little noise of frustration, Eden slumped back on the bed and let her eyes close.

"Gave us a bit o' a fright there, lass."

She cracked an eyelid to look at the watchful biker stood by the open door with a shoulder cocked against the wall. "I don't need a minder."

Chibs looked like he was about to open his mouth to say something, but then seemed to think the better of it and looked away ruefully. "Want me to go?"

"Yes," Eden said, trying to stop her face falling as he turned, however reluctantly, to do just that. "I mean, no. Maybe. I don't know."

She let her eyes squeeze shut, her mind racing and her head throbbing where she must have hit it on the ground when she fell. She opened them again at the feel of his weight perching on the side of the narrow bed, just as his hand reached out to smooth a lock of hair back from her face, his fingers caressing her cheek.

"I'm sorry," the Scotsman said quietly. "Listen, those checks … They had to be done, but I am sorry you feel like I broke your trust. I didn't set out to hurt you, pet. Didn't even think your name would come up, not like that."

She couldn't have held out for too long even if she wanted too, not finding herself looking into those warm brown eyes full of concern and regret.

"I get it," Eden sighed finally. "Doesn't mean I have to like it, but I do get it. If I'm honest, I always did. I just …" She trailed off, not really having the words to explain, but it seemed Chibs didn't need her to anyway.

"I know. You think you might … maybe let me try to make it up to you?"

Eden couldn't help smiling slightly despite herself at his hopeful little look, leaning into his touch as he palmed her cheek, his thumb stroking over her skin. "Maybe."

"Well, how about you start by letting me take a wee look at that bump on your head?" Chibs suggested. "I know I ain't exactly on your level, but I've patched up a fair few people in my time."

"I'll be fine," she tried to reassure him, but she consented when she saw he wasn't going to take no for an answer, sitting up and leaning forward so he could see to probe the admittedly sensitive area on the back of her head with gentle fingers. "Did you carry me in here?"

"Aye. Could hardly just leave ya lying outside, could I? Don't think you'll need stitches," he finally determined, before his hand beneath her chin tilted her gaze back up to meet his. "Just gotta look after yerself better, lass. Or let someone else do it …"

She gave him a wry look at that, but found that she didn't pull away although he gave her every opportunity to as he leaned in slowly and his mouth sought out hers for an unexpectedly tender kiss that only ended abruptly at the groan from the doorway.

"Seriously?" Seth said, heaving a long-suffering sigh. "I dunno whether to give you this water, or chuck it over the pair of you …"

* * *

Having watched the biker president saunter into the garage the next morning whistling cheerfully, Lyla sat back at the office desk and shook her head with a little smirk.

"What?" he demanded, on spotting her watching him.

"Nothing!"

"Can a man not just be happy at his work?"

"Of course," she smiled. "So you made up with Eden then?"

"Dunno what ya mean," Chibs replied, a quick tell-tale grin making his cheeks dimple. "Any calls for me, or anything I need to know about, darlin'?"

"Uh, got a few things that need your signature when you've got a minute," Lyla said, turning her attention back to her work and rifling through the stacks of paperwork in front of her. "Also had … um, something of a distress call from Flick."

"Ah, shite," the president sighed, dropping down into the chair opposite her and pinching the bridge of his nose. "What fresh hell's she looking to drop in my lap now?"

"Not yours. Mine," Lyla said, with a roll of her eyes. "Although I am definitely tempted to send you instead. Ugh, it's something and nothing – feuding talent threatening to shut down production. You don't need to worry about it, as long as you can spare me from here for a few hours to go see if I can help sort this shit out."

Chibs shrugged easily. "Aye, we'll manage here. Wee bit surprised Flick can't handle it though – way I hear it, she's a bit o' a ball-breaker. Literally."

"Not always helpful on a porn set," the former actress said wryly. "I'll finish getting a few things in order here, then head over to Red Woody. Hopefully I won't be too long. Thought I might see if Eden's free for lunch after though, seeing as she's stuck on late shifts."

"I'm sure she'd like that," Chibs smiled, looking like he maybe had more to say as he got up to go, but seeming to think the better of it, although he still hovered in the office until Lyla set down her pen again.

"You want me to explain a few things to her? About the club, how things work around here?" she asked. "What she might be letting herself in for?"

"I dunno … Maybe," he said, sitting back down again heavily, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he looked at her almost bashfully. "D'ya think I'm being a daft fucking eejit? Aul' man like me chasing after a girl like her?"

"Chibs …" Lyla sighed, a fond smile on her face.

"Don't you go telling me what you think I wanna hear, love, just 'cause we're friends, or 'cause o' the patch, or me being your boss, or any o' that shite," he insisted. "I ain't gonna hold it against you if you tell me the truth."

"Well, in that case …" she started seriously, feeling bad for playing with him when she saw him try to hide how his face had fallen at that and trailing off to get up from her seat and go over to drop a little kiss on the top of his head. "She'd be lucky to have you," she said firmly, pulling him to his feet and poking an almost scolding finger in his chest. "I mean it, Chibs. Take it from me, chicks like their bad boys with a soft centre, and you, honey, are positively gooey in the middle."

"Jesus, don't fucking tell anyone _that_ – I got a reputation to protect here," he declared, feigning horror before tugging her into an affectionate hug. "What would I do without you, huh, sweetheart?" he demanded roughly, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Love you, Ly."

"Love you too," she smiled softly. "Now, go away so I can actually get some work done."

"Yes, ma'am," he grinned.

* * *

Having finally gotten the Sam's Yard paperwork into some kind of shape, Lyla left TO in charge of the garage and, on Chibs' orders, took Rat with her to go visit Red Woody – not that either of them were prepared for the scene that greeted them.

"What the hell is going on?" she demanded, hands on her hips, trying to make herself heard over the blazing row being conducted at full volume by what seemed like half the cast and crew of the porn studio's latest production. Rat just stood, wide-eyed, by her side and reluctant to wade in. "_Hey!_"

Finally spurred into action, Rat took a step forward, shoved his fingers in his mouth and emitted a piercing whistle. "Shut the fuck up!" he shouted. "Lyla asked you a question …"

After a moment's consideration, Flick Devine came storming out of the thick of the ruckus that had at least died down for the moment and marched straight up to the hapless biker, blue eyes blazing. "Word to the wise, biker boy," she seethed. "Tell me to shut the fuck up again and I will fuck _you_ up – and not in a way you'll enjoy. _Capiche?_"

"Flick," Lyla intervened, as Rat gulped nervously. "What's going on? There are reps from some distribution companies sitting in reception probably wondering the same thing."

The new director grimaced. "Shit, I tried to tell them to keep it down. Keeping this under wraps is why I called you in the first place. Guess you could call it a workplace romance gone wrong ..."

"That's it?" her predecessor frowned. "Seriously?"

"It was. Until these stupid bitches had to take it too far and bring their rival lovers bullshit onto my set."

"I still don't see the problem. Tell them to get their shit together or-"

"Maybe I should just show you," Flick said grimly.

* * *

"Holy shit," Rat exhaled. "They're like a human pretzel."

"Not helpful, Rat," Lyla sighed, taking in the distinctly X-rated scene in front of them. "Okay, give me the cliff notes version …"

One of the half-naked porn stars opened her mouth to contribute, only to be silenced by a death glare from Flick. "Oh no, not a word from you, bitch," she scowled, before turning back to Lyla. "So, it transpires that both these charming _ladies_ have been banging Dr Humps-A-Lot here in their down time. And instead of being grown-ups about it, they decided to neglect to tell me their petty jealousies might, just might, cause an issue. So when we got around to shooting the threesome I was telling you about for another instalment of Doctor On Call, these two wound up causing their own little medical emergency."

"I really am in quite a lot of pain," the muscular man at the centre of it all, naked save for the stethoscope around his neck, gasped. "Do you think maybe the explanations could wait until I get some actual _help_ here?!"

"Yeah, why are they still … you know?" Rat asked.

"Well, this one …" Flick started, gesturing to the raven-haired woman seemingly trapped under her two co-stars. "Decided to try to prove some kind of fucked-up point by fucking him like some kind of demented sex-bot. So he's thrown his back out – and possibly broken his dick. And this one …" she broke off to point out the redhead, still wearing the remnants of a very naughty nurse outfit and handcuffed to both her male co-star and the bed. "She decided to bring her own cuffs to play."

Lyla pinched the bridge of her nose, even as Rat turned decidedly pale, having clearly focused on the extent of the injuries sustained in whatever the hell had gone down on the set. "Where's the key?" she asked, already fearing she knew the answer.

"The stupid gash swallowed it," Flick confirmed, glaring daggers at all involved.

"Jesus Christ," Lyla sighed.

* * *

"Hey, darlin'," Chibs said, on answering his cell phone as he took his turn supervising the prospects working in the garage. "Porn problem sorted?"

"Not exactly …" came Lyla's voice from the other end of the line. "I need your help."

"I'm flattered, sweetheart," he teased. "But I don't think it's my line o' work-"

"I'm not joking, Chibs. I've had to ask Eden to get over here too."

"_What?!_ You can't put _Eden_ in the middle o' a bloody porn shoot!"

"Don't panic," came the impatient reply. "I'm not trying to recruit your girl – I need her strictly as a medical professional. So can you come or not?"

"Aye, all right, I'm on my way, but-"

"Good. Bring a toolkit."

"What the …? Lyla? _Lyla?_ Jesus Christ."


	18. Chapter 18

**Eighteen**

Pulling her car up outside the Red Woody complex, Eden eyed the building curiously as she got out and went to get her medical bag out of the trunk.

"Well, this is a first …" she murmured to herself, heading for the door and hoping Lyla wasn't going to be too hard to locate, only to find that one of the Sons had clearly been sent to keep an eye out for her. "Oh, hey – sorry, which one are you again?"

"George," he replied. "Everyone calls me Rat though."

"Huh. Funny, my brother had a pet rat when he was a kid. It was called George. So, uh, what's been going on here then? Do you know?"

But the biker only winced and pointed. "They're through here. On the set."

"Oh-kay," Eden said gamely. "Lead on …"

But despite the weird and wonderful ideas racing through her mind, she wasn't quite prepared for the sight that greeted her and she was pretty sure her mouth fell open, even as her eyes widened. "Yup, definitely a first," she managed, before trying to regain her professional composure. "Holy shit … I mean, sorry. Hi. I'm Eden – I'm a paramedic."

"Oh, thank god," the naked man moaned, ass-side up and apparently balls deep in a dark-haired woman with a gravity-defying figure while handcuffed to a similarly proportioned redhead. "You gotta help me, _please!_"

"Uh, I'll … do what I can," Eden said, glancing around the crowd that had gathered, her eyebrows raised in question when she found Lyla among them.

"I'll explain it all later," Lyla said, making her way to her side. "For now, it's his back. And possibly his dick. Thank you for coming, doll – I owe you."

"You really do," the paramedic sighed. "Okay … Uh, what's your name, sir?"

"Brody. Brody James," he ground out.

"And on a scale of one to ten, how much pain would you say you're in, Brody?"

"Like twenty!"

"_Men_," Flick muttered.

"She broke my goddamn _dick!_" came the outraged yelp at that.

"And can you move, like, at all?"

"If I could, do you think I'd still be like this?!"

"Hey, this is no fun for me either, asshole," the dark-haired woman practically spat from beneath him. "I've gone numb from, like, the pussy down!"

Eden hastily tried to smother a giggle behind her hand at that, fighting to keep her composure as she shook her head in disbelief at the scene in front of her. "And the handcuffs? I'm guessing the key isn't an option …"

"Apparently _someone_ likes swallowing a bit too much," Lyla filled in, with a glare for the sulky looking culprit. "I called Chibs."

The paramedic's eyebrows quirked again at that little piece of information. "Because … he's an expert at getting naked porn stars out of handcuffs?"

"Because he's a mechanic with a lot of tools," Lyla said impatiently, and Eden supposed she had to concede that was a good point.

"Uh, okay, in that case … I'm going to look into getting Brody some pain relief, maybe a muscle relaxant …"

"He feels pretty fucking relaxed to me," the dark-haired porn star beneath him grumbled.

"For his back," Eden pointed out. "If his back's gone into spasm, we need to ease that to try to get him, um … up. Jesus, this is weird. In the meantime, can we maybe get a bit of privacy here please?"

"First time for everything," Flick muttered, before stepping forward to take charge. "Right, you lot, we're wrapping for today. Talent, make-up, wardrobe, crew – you can go home, as long as you're back _early_ tomorrow to play catch-up." She broke off to glare round at the chorus of groans. "Don't give me that, we've lost serious time with all this pissing around. Anyone involved in post-production, get back to work. Now!"

* * *

Having established that the dark-haired woman was called Kimberly and the redhead Jade, Eden had set about finding a sheet to drape over all three porn stars – more to spare her blushes, she realised, than theirs. But she decided she could hardly be blamed for finding the whole thing distracting, to say the least. She'd also pulled Flick and Lyla aside to check they were sure they didn't want to just call an ambulance.

"Because if his … uh, penis is broken …" she explained awkwardly, trying to forget her surroundings and focus on her unexpected patient. "Then he needs proper treatment as soon as possible. Or he's looking at possible complications, even permanent erectile dysfunction …"

"_What?!_" Brody yelped, overhearing their hushed conversation. "Get me the fuck outta here, _please!_"

Regretting having only freaked him out more, Eden hurried back to the hapless trio's side and patted his shoulder gently. "Hey, come on, it's gonna be okay," she tried. "That's absolutely just the worst-case scenario and I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure it doesn't come to that, okay? Now, is the pain relief I gave you having any effect?"

"Maybe," he offered, after a long moment's consideration. "You have really pretty eyes …"

"That's a yes to the pain relief," Eden said, with a small smile.

"Seriously? You can't even wait to get your dick outta me before hitting on some other chick? Ugh, I dunno what I ever thought I saw in you anyway, you asshole," Kimberly complained, throwing an exasperated arm over her face to avoid having to look at Brody.

"No wonder he'd look elsewhere, stuck in your skanky snatch like this," Jade sneered.

"And whose fault is _that?_" came the retort. "And if it's so skanky, how come you were happy to eat it – on _and_ off camera, you fickle bitch?"

"You really do have very pretty eyes," Brody continued, as if oblivious to everyone but Eden, twisting awkwardly to try to get a better view and yelping in pain when he did.

"Careful, we're supposed to be trying to loosen up your back – not make it worse," Eden warned.

"So pretty …"

"Stop hitting on the fucking medic, Brody!" Kimberly yelled, slapping his shoulder in exasperation.

"Aye, definitely stop hitting on the wee medic, pal. Or your back'll be the least o' your problems."

Flushed as a result of everything going on, not least the sound of that familiar accent behind her, Eden turned and came face to face with the bemused biker president.

"Is this the part o' the movie where I offer to fix yer pipes?" he asked, holding up a toolkit with a devilish grin.

* * *

With Chibs having managed to dismantle the handcuffs complicating the whole situation – chuckling to himself the whole time and with a wink for the still sulking redhead as he offered their remains to her as a souvenir – and Brody's back having loosened enough to at least allow him some degree of movement, Eden was relieved when they were able to finally separate him and Kimberly, even if everyone did wince at the result.

"Bloody hell, man," Chibs sympathised, slapping him on the back in what was presumably meant as a show of male solidarity. "It's like ya stuck it in a fucking mangle …"

"Okay, maybe not helpful," Eden pointed out, seeing the stricken look on the porn star's face. "Brody, don't worry, I actually think it might not be broken, just really badly bruised. Like, really badly. I mean, I'd have to examine you properly, but-"

"But she ain't gonna be giving personal dick exams," Chibs said firmly. "Flick, Brody here's your problem – no offence, mate - for the love o' god, just take him down the hospital and get that looked at."

"Worried about the competition?" Eden asked teasingly, noting the biker's obvious discomfort and laughing as she leaned in to whisper to him coyly. "No contest – you were in perfect working order last I looked …"

"Want another check?" Chibs grinned, perking up at that and wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Oh, so it's fine if it's _your_ dick," Flick muttered, with a toss of her platinum bob, as she started steering a hobbling Brody towards the door, catching the robe thrown towards them and trying to drape it over his broad shoulders. "Keep that thing covered, will ya? I don't need your battered cock waving at me while I'm driving."

"Keep the cold pack on it!" Eden called after them, before finally dissolving into helpless laughter. "Okay, what the hell just happened?"

"Oh my god, Eden, I'm so sorry for dragging you into this mess," Lyla exclaimed, pulling her into a little hug. "I promise I will make it up to you. Both of you."

"Aye, ya better," Chibs pretended to grumble. "Bringing her out here to get hit on by crippled porn stars ..."

"Brody hit on you in the middle of all that?" Lyla turned to Eden, shaking her head. "That man is such a slut. Speaking of which, Jade's slunk off to the dressing rooms, but would you mind going to have a look at her wrist? It looked pretty badly chaffed from the cuffs and the last thing we need is her letting it get infected or some shit. I'll make sure everything's back on track here and then we can go for lunch – on me to say thanks."

But Chibs was already fishing out his wallet. "Listen, Ly, I appreciate you still helping wi' this place when you've got plenty going on back at the garage, and I'm the one who owes Eden for helping out a club business, so why don't the two o' ya take yourselves off somewhere nice when you're done here, my treat?"

"You don't have to do that," Eden smiled. "I'm glad I could help. Sort of."

"You could join us?" Lyla suggested. "Or I could stay here and not play third wheel …"

"Unfortunately for me, love, business calls," Chibs sighed. "So I insist - you girls enjoy."

"He is insisting," Lyla grinned at Eden, taking the proffered money and planting a fond kiss on the biker's cheek. "You might be my favourite boss, you know. Don't tell Nero."

* * *

"I know you're judging me."

Eden – having indeed found Jade in a dressing room she apparently shared with a couple of the other girls - looked up at the accusing tone, pausing in her gentle treatment of the younger woman's wrist. As Lyla had indicated, it had been badly chaffed by the cheap metal that had been secured much too tightly around it, and by all the twisting and turning the unfortunate threesome had led to.

"Not like you mean," she said simply. "Not for your job."

"Sure …" Jade scoffed in disbelief, with a toss of her long flame-red curls.

"Look, this may not be something I'm used to being around, but it doesn't make a difference to me – it's just a job," Eden shrugged. "I'm friends with Lyla, aren't I?"

But Jade was determined not to be swayed in her assessment of where they stood with each other. "I know that look," she said. "You think you know me, but you don't."

"No, I don't. And okay, maybe I am judging you a little. But it's not for working in porn. It's for this," the paramedic admitted, gesturing to her wrist. "Letting yourself get all twisted up over some guy. One who's clearly a player. You and Kimberly being at each other's throats when _Brody's_ the one trying to have his cake and eat it - who do you think'll come off sounding like a stud while the two of you get painted as the desperate psychos?"

She could feel Jade's eyes boring into her, even as she turned her attention back to carefully swabbing her inflamed wrist.

"Little Miss Perfect on your high horse," the porn star sneered, with more than a touch of unexpected venom in her words. "Oh please, who do you think you're fooling? You can't exactly be so squeaky clean yourself, honey - not if you're banging bikers like the rest of us."

"Biker, singular," Eden replied evenly, seeing no point in denying that much.

Jade snorted. "You really aren't used to this world, are you? Let me give you a few home truths, sweetheart. Unless you're an old lady, you don't mean shit to these guys. You might be a nice little distraction for a while, but then you either get kicked to the kerb or end up just another _desperate_ croweater to be passed around."

"Crow _what_?"

The redhead laughed bitterly. "Open those pretty little eyes. I know you've been to the clubhouse – I saw you there with Chibs. Knew I recognised you from somewhere. You saw what goes on, so why would you think ending up in a patch's bed makes you special?"

"I … I don't know what you mean."

"The hell you don't," Jade practically spat. "But okay, I'll spell it out. Want to guess how many of the girls who work here have fucked _your_ man?"

Eden could only stare at the hard-faced other woman, struggling to think of anything to say in response to her callous bluntness and the obvious sarcasm at any suggestion of a claim on Chibs.

"No? Not even a guess? Hey, maybe you could ask his _wife_, see if she knows. Oh my god, wake up, bitch! She _married_ him and he still gets what he needs elsewhere – what chance do you think _you_ have after a few rolls between the sheets? Want to know how many times _I've_ fucked him?"

"Oh, do tell, darlin'. Because, it's the strangest thing, I don't seem to recall …"

Eden was able to watch Jade pale in front of her, even as Chibs made his presence known, unfolding his arms from across his chest as he pushed away from the doorway where he'd been leaning just long enough to realise exactly what was going on and strode into the room, his face thunderous.

"I … I didn't … I mean, I wasn't …" Jade stammered, her eyes wide.

"Getting on like a shit-stirring, vicious wee bitch?" he all but growled. "Wi' the girl good enough to come out here and help clear up a mess o' your making? Glad to fucking hear it. Get the fuck out o' my sight."

"But …"

"Get. Gone," he said tightly, stone-cold fury barely contained and the look on his face more than enough to send the porn star scuttling for the door.

* * *

"Eden …"

The Scotsman reached out, taking her hand in his and pulling her up from her chair, only to raise her fingers to his lips for a little kiss, before guiding her arm around his neck and lifting her to sit on the edge of the mirrored dressing table with him stood between her knees.

"Filip …"

But Chibs shook his head, tracing her lower lip with his thumb as his hand cupped her cheek and he looked her square in the eye. "I ain't gonna bullshit you. I ain't perfect. Far from it. I ain't proud o' how things ended up wi' me and Fi – it's a long, complicated, unhappy tale, but the upshot is that I didn't do right by her. I never shoulda married her, knowing I was in love wi' someone else – someone I loved and lost and—"

"Filip, you don't have to-"

"No, I do, sweetheart," he insisted. "Because, aye, there've been more women over the years than I like to admit. But there've been damn few who've actually meant anything. And now here you are and …"

He trailed off, clearly trying to find the words under her unsure gaze. "Letting someone like you get caught up wi' the likes o' me – my head tells me it ain't right," he said finally. "This life ain't something I should want for you, darlin'. But in my heart, selfish bastard that I am … I know you could mean something. You already do."

"I do?" Eden echoed softly, as his forehead came to rest against hers.

"Aye, you do," he confirmed, kissing her lips gently as he stepped closer, guiding her denim-clad legs tight around his hips. "And, for what it's worth, that crazy wee whore? I damn sure ain't ever fucked her."

"Croweaters though?"

"None since you. God's honest truth," Chibs said, a twinkle creeping into his brown eyes as he felt her finally relax a little more in his arms. "I'm an aul' man, lass – where the fuck d'ya think I'd get the energy?"

"Oh, I think you'd manage, if you wanted to," Eden said wryly, making him laugh.

"Saving mesel' for you, promise," he grinned, finally seizing his chance to catch her mouth in a hungry kiss that only deepened when she gave in to him and wrapped both arms around his shoulders to pull him even closer. "Shit, darlin', are you gonna be disappointed in me if I admit it'd be hot as fuck to steal a wee shag wi' my gorgeous girl in a porn studio?"

She looked back at him through lowered lashes, before reaching for the belt of his jeans. "Only if you're not intending to follow through …"


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Something a bit more deep and meaningful after last time - and a little speeding up of the timeline, 'cause wow, next part will be number twenty! Thanks to those still reading. Your thoughts are always welcome. Oh, and just in case anyone missed the previous note, the detail of my version of Chibs' backstory can be found in my previously published story Scars. Tx**

* * *

**Nineteen**

_Jackson Nathanial Teller. Devoted husband and father, beloved son._

That and the dates of his birth and death were all that marked the former Samcro president's humble grave. No black marble, no reaper, no reference to the legacy of his club – a club that had made him what he was and then turned its back on him.

_Beloved son._

That had been Chibs' doing. His only way to nod to the tribute the young man should have had, hidden in plain sight. Anything more would have incurred the wrath of Packer and the other presidents and they'd been on shaky enough ground already, all things considered. He still agonised over it though, this one last thing he could do for the brother he loved so dearly.

Should he go further, risk rocking the proverbial club boat and be damned? Would Jax even want those words, whatever meaning you chose to take from them, especially given the shattered ruins of the Teller-Morrow legacy? It felt right though. He couldn't risk using _brother_, despite the technical truth, given the existence – however tragically cut short – of JT and Gemma's youngest son and, he supposed, of JT's no-longer-secret daughter. But Chibs had often looked on Jax as a son. So, in his mind, that word on his grave would serve to represent their bond.

One year on, it was that word his fingers traced as he crouched, head bowed, by the secluded plot.

_Son._

"It was never meant to end like this, Jacky," Chibs sighed softly. "Rest well, my boy."

They'd lost so much in recent years. Too much. It would have seemed surreal had every hellish moment not been etched indelibly on his mind, making his heart ache just to think of it. So many hearts broken, families torn apart. So many people just gone, ripped out of his life.

Bobby. How the fuck was Bobby gone? Bobby, the one everyone looked to for wisdom and weed, sing-songs and homemade brownies. Bobby, who balanced the books and the peace.

And Opie. Jesus, Opie – following his first wife into the grave and leaving another to pick up the pieces of their children's shattered lives. It was tragically close to his best friend's own eventual path, reunited in death with his childhood love and leaving his ex-wife to tend to their kids.

He could hardly even bear to think of Tara, such was the brutality of her death, only made all the more sickening for the dark truth of how it had played out. No wonder Jax had been destroyed by it.

And he had. The loss of his love at the hands of his once precious mother, the woman who had been a maternal figure to them all … He was never going to be able to make that right. And, from what Nero had reluctantly disclosed, he had known that all along. That pulling the trigger to deliver the only justice he knew was to sign his own death warrant.

In that respect, admitting to killing Jury had only ever been a technicality. It may have been what sent Packer and the others after him in the end, but Jax had never expected to carry on – mayhem vote or not.

Chibs knew that now.

Crossing himself, he stood and turned to glance back to where he'd parked up his bike.

He was so tired of standing in graveyards, here and in Belfast – the heartache wearying him in a way age alone never could. How much could one man be asked to bear before it broke him completely?

He realised the sight of the girl waiting patiently for him did actually ease the pain in his heart just a little though. Enough to let him square his shoulders against the world and carry on.

Neither of them had put a label on what they had yet, but it was definitely something. Anyone with eyes could see that. And days had soon turned into weeks, months even, letting them fall into some kind of routine. If you could call it that, given the unpredictability of both their circumstances.

She probably wasn't cut out for being caught up in the life. She deserved better than anything he could offer.

Better than a married man with a wife on the other side of the world who didn't seem to want him, but wouldn't let him go either, and a teenage daughter he adored, but rarely saw. Better than the leader of a bunch of criminals who seemed to end up hurting everyone close to them whether they meant to or not.

She wasn't his old lady, couldn't be his wife … But she was here with him in a graveyard at first light, straight off a night shift, and the thought of having her ripped from him too made his blood run cold. He knew he'd kill anyone who tried.

With his bare hands if he had to.

Seeing her start walking towards him, he tried to push such dark thoughts from his mind, grazing his lips over hers when she stepped into his arms. Her hands rested on his cut, her fingers tracing the president patch lightly as she looked up at him.

"He'd be proud of you," Eden told him softly.

Chibs managed a sad smile at that. "I hope you're right, lass. I hope you're right."

* * *

He felt like he could tell her anything and he wasn't exactly the over-sharing type. Oh, he might wear his heart on his sleeve at times, but he was well used to keeping dark secrets deeply hidden too. And to putting on a brave, brash face when it was called for.

In her arms though, all that just seemed to slip away.

Club business, that was still locked up tight. But everything else …

"Aren't the guys gonna wonder where you are?"

"I'm the boss – let 'em wonder," Chibs shrugged, letting his fingertips trail lightly down Eden's bare back as she lay in his inked arms in the sanctuary of her bed. "Besides, all these night shifts you've been pulling, gotta steal time wi' my girl when I can."

She smiled at that, letting her green eyes drift closed, definitely in danger of falling asleep on his chest again and he realised these were the moments he was coming to really savour. When it could be just the two of them. And it wasn't just about the sex, incredible as it was. It was in those quiet, often stolen moments that they'd really been getting to know each other. Parts of their lives as intimate as the acts that drew them to each other's beds.

"Talk to me," she murmured, practically purring like a kitten as he lazily stroked the tangled waves of her hair.

"One o' us should be getting back to work," Chibs said. "And one o' us …" He broke off to press a soft kiss to her head. "… should be getting some sleep."

"I like listening to you. Tell me more about Ireland," Eden said softly, reaching up to trace his scarred cheeks. "How you got these."

Chibs took her hand in his and kissed her fingertips as he considered that. He'd known it was coming, having already ended up inadvertently spilling just enough for her to know there was some serious trauma at the centre of that particular chapter of his chaotic life. And, while it wasn't about owing each other, she had already trusted him with a lot – even beyond the stalling of her career, the whole nightmare surrounding that and her so-called fiancé bailing on her.

They'd been sprawled comfortably in his bed at the clubhouse, the noise out by the bar seeming to fade away, when he'd asked a seemingly innocuous question about why she'd wanted to become a paramedic in the first place. The answer was more than he'd bargained for, her determination to be able to help others stemming largely from her own father's death. In the boxing ring in front of his wife and then young children.

She knew what it was to lose someone.

"It ain't a happy story, love," he warned, but by his words, they both knew that it was one he was finally going to share and Eden let a comforting hand rest over his heart as she curled closer.

"Tell me," she whispered.

So he did.

* * *

With the now late morning sun streaming through the window, he told her everything. Capturing the grim times spent on the tough streets of Belfast, the comfort he'd found in Aoife, the horror of her fate, and the years he'd spent not knowing and having to look her brother Jimmy O in the face after he'd exiled him, broken and bloodied. And by the end of it, tears stained both their cheeks.

"Ah, pet," Chibs sighed, on realising that. "I didn't want to upset you …"

"I just hate to think of you hurting like that," Eden managed tearfully. "And that poor, poor girl. How could her own _brother_ …? Jesus, Filip, I'm so sorry."

"I know, and I love you for it, my darlin'," he said roughly, holding her close with one arm as he dashed tears away with the other, neither of them really registering the words in that moment.

"The not knowing … I can't even imagine … When did you find out for sure?"

"They only found her body a couple o' years ago. Was all over the news 'cause o' who Jimmy was. There's something else you should know, Eden," he added, unsure how she would react, but wanting her to know the whole truth of his blood-soaked past. She'd earned that. "Aoife … They say she was pregnant."

He knew by the way her eyes closed at that revelation that he didn't have to spell it out for her, but she only wrapped her arms tighter around him.

"Oh, Filip," she said softly. "Honey, I'm so, so sorry."

"I had no idea," he managed. "Don't think she did either. She'd have told me. Ain't gonna lie, hearing that fucked my head up for a while."

"I'd be more worried if it didn't," Eden said. "I hate that you've gone through something so terrible, but I am glad you felt you could tell me."

"I don't deserve you," he sighed, making her shake her head.

"Don't say that," she said, about to say something more when she trailed off unsurely. "Did you …? Uh, you know what? Never mind."

"Eden? What is it?" Chibs prompted, as she sat up wrapped in the sheets.

"Did you just say you … love me?" came the hesitant question, one that left him staring at her until she seemed to realise exactly what she'd just asked and quickly tried to backtrack. "Shit, sorry – probably just the heat of the moment. I know it's probably too soon and after everything you just told me … Oh god, could I be any more insensitive? I'm sorry. Please forget I said anything and-"

"Hey," the biker said softly, as she buried her face in her hands and he reached to pull her back into his arms, having replayed the conversation in his head and realised both exactly what he'd said and the truth of it. "I can't deny this life has cut me deep, darlin'. But we all need more than ghosts to hold onto. You don't gotta apologise, you hear me? Jesus, Eden, you here wi' me like this … You're the best thing that's happened to me in a hell o' a long time. So aye, I might be punching above my weight here, darlin', but I reckon I do love you."

Fresh unshed tears shone in her eyes as he tilted her lips up to his for a tender kiss.

"I love you too."


	20. Chapter 20

**TWENTY**

Glancing around the dingy apartment, the early morning light doing little to soften its rough edges, Eden tugged on a fresh pair of disposable gloves as she knelt by her latest patient's side, exchanging a glance with her grim-faced partner Desi Shah.

"Mia? I'm Eden, I'm a paramedic – can you tell me what happened to you?" she tried, her tone gentle, but firm. She didn't expect an answer though, knowing they were usually in short supply in cases like this. Honest ones at least. Experience had taught her that. "Can you tell me where you have pain?"

The face didn't need pointing out. The bruising was vicious, extensive; the nose clearly broken, but perhaps the cheekbone and eye socket as well. Blood still seeped from a gash to the forehead, while more crusted on those otherwise pale lips and stained the front of the baggy sweater that had already seen better days. More bruises snaked around the girl's throat, tell-tale fingers marks a good indicator of how they had gotten there.

Despite her concerns, Eden could sense they were on shaky ground, even if she tried to ignore the hostile glare of those mistrustful eyes trained on her. Every fibre of their reluctant patient's being suggested she might take flight at any moment – if her injuries allowed for it.

For now though, skinny arms wrapped around herself, the girl only tried to shrink further into herself as she huddled on the floor in the corner of the room, but she couldn't hold back a pained gasp. Broken ribs, Eden guessed. Maybe something worse.

"Mia, how far along are you?" the paramedic tried again, forcing herself to stay calm in a desperate bid to build some kind of rapport. "We just want to help, Mia – make sure you and the baby are safe."

"You'll take him a-away," came the harsh response, barely louder than a whisper.

At first, Eden thought she meant the baby. Then she heard the whimper from the next room and knew from Desi's soft curse that he had heard it too. "Go," she told him, sparing only a glance to watch him scramble to his feet before turning her attention back to the pitiful sight in front of her. "Mia, you can't stay here. Not like this," she said.

"But w-where else would I go?"

* * *

Under the jet of steaming hot water, she braced her hands against the wall and stood with her head down, letting it soak into her hair and ease her weary muscles. Sometimes it felt like everything about the job was almost unbearably hard. All the times you were too late, sometimes by mere minutes. Sometimes by years.

Losing patients was tough, but the lost causes were almost worse.

What chance did Mia ever have when she'd been in and out of the care system her whole life? Barely nineteen now and trapped in an abusive relationship she didn't even recognise as such, not even when she was broken and bloodied on the kitchen floor. Her usually wide blue eyes had looked back at them from the face of the whimpering little boy Desi had found in the bedroom with a soiled diaper and a partially dislocated shoulder, even while her own were forced almost closed by swelling. And still she wanted to stay. What hope then for the baby in her too-small belly, probably already jonesing for another fix just like its mother?

Eden slapped the flat of her hand against the shower wall at that, furious at how powerless they all were in the face of such blind and misplaced devotion. Hot tears escaped from beneath her lashes and she scrubbed them away with her arm, before tilting her face into the spray. She knew that falling apart over every patient wasn't an option, not if you wanted to keep your own sanity. And Christ knows hers had been tested enough.

She also knew she was going to end up drying off, getting dressed, and heading to the ER for an update. Telling herself she shouldn't, even as she sat wrapped in a towel on one of the locker room benches, was futile. Although she did stop to check the time on her phone, seeing just how early it still was. Even so, she then found herself making a call almost before thinking about it.

"Everythin' okay, baby?" came the response, after just a few rings despite the familiar burr being clearly thickened by the fog of sleep.

"Sorry it's so early," she sighed, only then really realising what she'd done. "Shit, it's _so_ early. I just … I guess I just needed to hear your voice. Sorry-"

"Rough night, darlin'?" Chibs asked down the phone line, sympathy and concern tangled up in even those few words, as he seemed to stifle a yawn and she pictured him stretching out in his bed at the clubhouse.

"I'm okay," Eden managed softly, reaching for her comb to start working it through her wet hair. "Or I will be."

"Pick you up after your shift?"

The ghost of a smile crossed her face at the thought of being wrapped around him on the back of his bike and she found herself nodding. "Yes, please."

"Anything for you, love," the biker replied, allowing her to practically see the little grin warming his voice. "I'll be waiting."

"I'll be there."

* * *

"Someone didn't learn anything from what happened to Doctor Knowles …"

The wry muttering reached Eden's ears even as she visibly brightened to see Chibs leaning against his bike outside the hospital after her shift, smoking in the early morning light. She'd still been pulling on her leather jacket as she hurried out of the hospital, and she faltered in her tracks, before forcing herself to shake it off rather than give the group of gossiping nurses the satisfaction of seeing her react. Besides, after her long and intense night shift, she was only too glad to see the biker's warm smile and she couldn't bring herself to care for too long what anyone else thought.

"Hey," she greeted him, enjoying the little flutter of butterflies in her stomach at the easy, familiar way in which he caught her hand in his and tugged her close for a soft kiss, her free arm settling around his shoulders. "I feel bad dragging you up at this time."

"Been hauled outta bed earlier for much less pleasant reasons, darlin'," he said, raising an eyebrow as he took in the little huddle of women not so subtly scrutinising them, nudging each other and whispering. "What's wi' the coven and the dirty looks?"

"Ignore them," Eden sighed. "I do."

"Hang on a minute," Chibs frowned. "What's to ignore? They giving you grief?"

"No, not really. I guess … I guess they just think I should have taken Tara as more of a … cautionary tale," she said, reluctant to bring up the details.

The president gritted his teeth at that. "Fuck me. What happened to Tara … I ain't even got the words for it. But using that as something to get at you? That's pretty fucking low. Wait here."

"What?" Eden's eyes widened in alarm. "Filip, don't …"

But he was already strolling over to the group of nurses, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into the open neck of his shirt. "Ladies," he smiled tightly, nervousness already creeping into them in the face of his unexpected approach. "Word to the wise – speaking ill o' the dead? No good can come o' it."

"We weren't!" came a snapped response from the boldest of the trio, even as the other two looked as if they were hoping the ground might open and swallow them whole.

"Chattin' shite about what happened to Tara Knowles, something you know fuck all about? I beg to differ. That lass was family to me. Her wedding, her funeral – I was there. Don't recall seeing one o' you."

Sullen silence. He hadn't expected anything else, staring coldly round at them until he turned on his heel to go.

"Oh, one more thing. Keep my old lady's name and her business outta your flaming mouths, if you know what's good for you. Enjoy your day."

Having overheard everything, Eden shook her head as he joined her again, climbing on his Harley like nothing had happened. "Filip …"

"Eden …" he simply echoed, leaving her staring at him as he handed her his helmet. "Get on the bike."

She saw no point in arguing, doing as she was told and wrapping her arms around him. She could only assume he'd send the prospects to pick up her car later, but right then, she just wanted to get away from the baleful glares of the women he'd confronted.

"So I'm your old lady now?"

The questioning words were all but swallowed up when he let the engine roar into life, so he could claim he hadn't heard them. For now. But it wasn't a conversation he could put off forever, or even for long. Not when there was more at stake than putting a few mouthy bitches in their places.

Much more.

* * *

"You pissed off wi' me, lass?" Chibs asked, watching Eden pick at her breakfast from across the cosy booth of the diner he'd taken her to straight from work. He knew she must be tired, and that she'd had a rough night on duty, but it seemed like more than that.

"No," she said, not looking up. "Maybe. Little bit."

He smiled wryly at that. He could handle that.

"Oi," the biker started, reaching for her free hand across the table. "Look at me …"

Eventually lifting her head to shoot him a happy-now look, she sighed and gave in to letting her fingers interlock with his. "I don't need you always fighting my battles, Filip," she sighed. "You're as bad as Seth."

"I know," he conceded. "I just don't like seeing people trying to get in your head 'cause o' me."

"You called me your old lady. You're making a habit of just casually throwing stuff like that out there."

Chibs shifted uncomfortably at that, glancing down at their joined hands ruefully. "Shouldn't have. That ain't for me to spring on you."

"I do get it, you know," Eden said quietly. "What it means. I talked to Lyla. And … Well, I have always wanted more ink. Wasn't exactly planning on a crow, but I'm not opposed …"

"Sweetheart, it's so much more-"

"I know. It's being all in - including being tied to you in the eyes of the club's enemies, being a risk, a target. But I'm already with you, so I'm probably all those things anyway," she said. "And, unless you're starting to get bored of me already, I'm not planning on going anywhere."

The Samcro president met her gaze, conflicting emotions flickering across his scarred face. Memories of all the club women he had known over the years drifted from out of the dark recesses of his mind. Feisty, loyal, loving women – and stronger than their men, in their own ways. They had to be. They were the ones who carried the true burden of the club, left to pick up the pieces when shit went bad.

He didn't want that for Eden, didn't want her in danger. And he could tell himself he would walk through hell and take on the devil himself to keep her safe, but he knew plenty of Sons who had probably told themselves the same thing. Little good it had done in the end.

She was right, he knew that too. It probably was too late to keep a target off her back, this far down the line. Unless … He cut her loose. The thought of losing her made something twist painfully in his chest, but at least that way she'd be safe.

"No," she shook her head, making him realise his thought processes must have been mapping themselves out across his face. "Don't you dare."

"Eden …"

"Don't you dare," she warned, trying to blink back tears as her fingers tightened around his. "You can't just let me fall in love with you, Filip, and then push me away like it's _nothing_. What we have isn't nothing, not for me. And I can't believe it is for you either."

Fuck, she was breaking his damn heart. And he'd long since thought it was already shattered beyond repair.

"I just don't want you hurt," Chibs tried, but she pulled her hand from his as if it had burned her.

"You're the only one hurting me right now," Eden managed, burying her tear-streaked face in her hands to try to avoid making a scene.

"Oh, pet, don't …" he said roughly, unable to stand it any longer and quickly shifting places so he could slide into the booth next to her instead of opposite, wrapping her in his arms. "I love you, my darlin'. 'Course I don't wanna lose you."

"Then don't push me away," she sniffed, her head tucked under his chin.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his ringed finger tilting her face up to his to look deep into her eyes, wordlessly searching for the answer to the question he hadn't asked out loud.

"I love you, Filip Telford," she whispered. "Is that enough to be your old lady?"

His brown eyes stayed locked on hers, his hand smoothing a stray lock of hair back from her face, caressing her cheek as his mouth claimed hers in a tender kiss.

"Aye," he murmured against her lips. "Aye, it is."


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Another swifter than planned update - thought I'd make the most of still having the chance to enjoy writing, before life inevitably gets a bit more hectic in the run-up to Christmas ... Hope you enjoy and, as always, thanks for reading and do feel free to share your thoughts! :)  
**

* * *

**Twenty-One**

"Fucking hell," Tig groused, wiping his brow for what felt like the hundredth time. "Bad enough being hauled in here on a weekend, without sweating like a whore in confession as well. Ain't this why we got hang-arounds?"

"You ain't the only one wi' places he'd rather be, Tiggy," Chibs scowled impatiently. "First proper bit o' down time Eden's had in ages, yet here I am – up to me flaming elbows in engine oil. We should be glad o' the trade, but wi' the air con packed in and Lyla's hands full at home wi' the kiddies all sick …"

"And the prospects fucking useless."

"Aye, not likely to make mechanics o' them, are we? Chibs sighed. "Shite, I better ring Eden, cancel our plans."

"You can join me in the doghouse if her reaction's anything like Vee's," Tig grimaced.

"Ach, cheer up, brother," the president tried. "After all we've been through, we should be glad this is all we've got to worry about."

"It has been a while since anyone shot at me. Or bit me on the ass …"

"Give it time, man, give it time."

Chibs was still chuckling at their little exchange as he stole two minutes for a smoke break, ignoring the complaining of customers being kept waiting in favour of wandering across the yard to find a quiet corner to call his old lady from – her bright greeting bringing a smile to the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, handsome," came Eden's voice from the other end of the phone. "Am I gonna see you soon?"

"I'm sorry, baby. Turns out I'm needed here. Lyla's called in to say the kids are all down wi' some bug or other and it turns out the place goes to hell in a fucking handcart without her. Christ knows when I'll get away …"

"I hope you're not thinking you can just cancel on me any time you like now I'm your old lady," she said, but he could hear the teasing tone behind her scolding words. "Filip, it's fine – these things happen."

"Shite timing though," he grumbled. "First chance in ages to spend some proper time wi' my girl and this place falls into absolute fucking carnage. And the air con's on the blink, so it's about three degrees hotter than the surface o' the goddamn sun in the garage … Listen, I gotta go, pet – I can hear Tig from here, threatening to castrate some bloke for getting arsey wi' him, and I'm told that ain't exactly kosher when it comes to customer service. I'll check in later, if I get the chance."

"You're lucky I love you, Telford," she laughed.

"Believe me, I know. Love you."

He ended the call with a sigh, squaring his shoulders as he headed back into the mayhem, almost nostalgic for the days of bullets and shit-kicking by comparison.

Almost.

* * *

Looking down at the lingerie she was wearing beneath the short, silky robe she now wrapped around herself, covering up the revealing deep crimson lace, Eden sighed ruefully. So much for her hopes for a long, dirty weekend with her sexy biker, with no intention of straying too far from bed.

But she had known what she was getting into with Chibs, how demanding his life could be. She supposed she should be grateful it was only a busy garage keeping him away.

Such was the lot of an old lady, or so she was told.

Twisting in front of the full-length mirror stood in the corner of the bedroom, Eden swept the carefully blow-dried waves of her hair into a messy pile high on her head. The more she thought about it, the more she thought that was where she wanted it – his crow. Spread-eagled wings silhouetted in graceful flight across the back of her neck, a Scottish thistle in the beak.

Thoughts of how she had laid back in her man's arms talking and laughing over the placement of her planned tattoo brought a little smile to her lips. She could still practically feel the gentle fingertip he had stroked across her ribs, high up under her breasts. That had been just one suggestion, if she'd wanted the ink somewhere private. Not that she'd really thought it through at that stage, although she had suspected he'd prefer his crow somewhere everyone could see it and had said as much, making him chuckle and admit that had its appeal.

"But it's your body, baby," Chibs had said, letting his lips follow the path of his touch. "I'll be perfectly happy either way. And besides, there ain't anywhere you can put it where I ain't gonna see it …"

"Pervert," she'd teased, swatting his arm and then reminding him that, as the club's resident tattooist, Happy would also have to see whatever spot she chose.

"I'd trust Hap wi' our lives," he'd declared at that. "But you ain't getting your kit off for him. End o' story."

Even now, she smiled while remembering how the laughter had faded away as he'd turned his attention first to kissing her breathless, then to making love to her until she cried out his name. Just the memory flushed her cheeks and sparked fresh regret at their spoiled plans, until a thought occurred to her and a little grin quirked her lips as she hurried to get dressed.

After all, old ladies were supposed to support their men …

* * *

"Two hours I've been kept late – and now you've scratched the damn paint as well. I should have listened to my husband after all, gone somewhere _reputable_ …"

"But—"

"And I can't believe you've got the cheek to expect me to pay! No, I don't want your pathetic excuses. What I want is my car and adequate compensation, so what are you going to do about it?"

The woman, middle-aged and overly made-up, in too-tight jeans and a low-cut top, dripping with showy gold jewellery, was only getting more and more shrill as her temper frayed in the face of Charlie's well-meaning efforts to appease her. The young prospect was hating every second of having to deal with the latest in what seemed like an unfairly long line of unreasonable customers, not wanting to look weak in front of his brothers, but also realising there was going to be no getting through to this one. He wouldn't have minded quite so much if they _had_ actually scratched her car. But, as he'd already told her – twice - he'd washed it himself after Tig fixed whatever minor issue had been found under the hood and he knew for definite that the scratches had already been there, looking very much like the result of the owner simply not taking enough care when opening the driver's door. He wasn't taking the rap for that, having everyone think he'd messed up. Again.

"You're lying," he blurted out desperately, a caught look crossing his face when he realised exactly what he'd said. Just because it was true didn't mean it was a good idea to put it out there, not quite so bluntly anyway.

"How _dare_ you!" the woman exploded, her not-so-dulcet tones seeming to echo around the garage, even over the radio blasting in the corner and the usual clatter of tools that seemed to subside in the face of her outrage. "How dare you accuse _me_!"

"Listen, lady," Charlie started, trying to sound commanding, like his brothers. Knowing himself he was failing miserably when he actually couldn't think of anything to say to improve the situation. He could see Wheels sniggering from the relative safety of the office and didn't actually know whether to dread or hope for someone more senior also noticing the woman's histrionics and stepping in. "Look, just stop yelling, _please_ …"

Little did the prospect know that the president himself had heard pretty much all he needed to from beneath the car he was working on, having long since rolled his sleeves up – in a manner of speaking, having discarded even his work shirt in the near-stifling heat to make do with the wifebeater he'd had on underneath - and got stuck in to try to ease the backlog. And now, with beads of sweat trickling into his eyes, it was all Chibs could do to grit his teeth and try to stay focused on the job in hand. He knew he should probably go over there before things escalated any further, but all things considered, his patience with the entire day was wearing more than a little thin.

"Excuse me, ma'am, could I ask you to step into the office?"

The polite enquiry was entirely out of kilter with what was going on and the calm intervening voice so unexpected that it took even Chibs a second to place its owner, making him raise an eyebrow when he did. He was curious to see how it would play out if he stayed put, but it quickly seemed like it just wasn't going to wash with their irate customer.

"No, you could not – I've been kept waiting long enough. I just want this little shit to give me my car keys and I'll be going."

"Of course. And I realise the backlog has been very inconvenient, but I'm sure we could find someone to T-cut out a few small chips if you were prepared to hang on just a little longer. And, of course, there's just the small matter of payment to settle."

"I'm not paying for the privilege of having my car damaged by these … these … _thugs!_"

"I didn't damage her car, I promise I didn't," Charlie tried desperately, his anxiety steadily rising at the thought of having inadvertently caused all this aggro, but his input went largely ignored.

"If you thought they were thugs, then maybe you should have considered gracing somewhere else with your custom. Try stiffing them on the check."

Chibs smirked at that, mentally high-fiving his old lady for her ability to turn on that professional charm – but still take no shit. However, the response soon had his jaw clenching angrily and he had to force himself to remember what she'd said about fighting her battles for her.

"_Excuse me?!_ I'm not taking that from some club whore!"

"Don't speak to her like that!" Charlie yelped, seeming more offended by that than anything thrown at him, but a restraining hand on his chest held him back.

"I'm not the one trying to take advantage of a young man just doing his job. Charlie says he didn't damage your car and I believe him. He wouldn't lie. Not to me, not to you. So take a walk, cool off, come back with the money you owe and I'll be waiting in the office with your keys. Keys, Charlie … Charlie? Keys."

At the sound of footsteps then heading his way, Chibs slid out from under the wreck he was on the verge of declaring a hopeless case. A slow grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as his eyes landed on slim, tan legs and travelled slowly upwards, lingering on the tantalising sliver of toned stomach between the cropped tank top and denim cut-offs, before finally reaching his old lady's face.

"There's my gorgeous girl," he drawled. "Remind me not to mess wi' you, darlin'. Eden, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be enjoying your time off."

"Couldn't have my old man struggling and not come see if I could help," she shrugged, as he clambered to his feet and snaked an arm around her waist to steal a quick kiss. "Ugh, you're all sweaty …"

"Never heard ya complain before, lass," the Scotsman smirked, his hand slipping to the curve of her ass, only for her to shy away from him with a little laugh.

"Hey, no skiving on my watch," Eden teased, snagging the work shirt he'd discarded and pulling it on over her tank top, not bothering to do up the buttons. "You're meant to be on the clock, Telford. I'll be in the office. Come on, Charlie – you can give me a hand."

Watching his old lady head inside, the prospect trailing her like an overgrown puppy, Chibs couldn't help focusing on the sway of her hips, decidedly sinful thoughts running through his mind.

"I can practically see your dirty mind working," Tig snickered, as he ambled past with a spare tyre in his arms. "Speaking of which, you do know the kid's gonna think all his Christmases have come at once - shut up in that hot, sweaty office with the girl of his dreams …"

"He better not be dreaming about her," Chibs scowled. "Or I'll bounce him outta here on his scrawny arse. What is it wi' fucking daft wee prospects and women well outta their league?"

"Like you can talk – that one should be outta _your_ league, never mind his!"

"Whose bloody side are you on here?" his president exclaimed, feigning outrage.

Tig held up his hands. "If you think about it, that was actually a compliment."

"Thanks, brother," Chibs said dryly.

"I mean, I've always thought you're a very handsome man …"

"Stop talking, Tiggy."


	22. Chapter 22

**Twenty-Two**

Eden had long since started to regret taking on the challenge that was the Sam's Yard office, especially in the now sweltering heat. She'd never been a fan of admin, although the evidence suggested she was still streets ahead of anyone who actually worked there, bar Lyla. Even so, she was glad of the distraction when the door opened and she heard footsteps approaching – not that she was going to admit it, not straight away at least.

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, as she stayed elbow-deep in the filing cabinet.

"I thought I said no skiving?"

"What can I say?" Chibs growled in her ear. "Maybe I need disciplining ..."

She gave a little hum of pleasure in response to that, and to his roaming hands, before it turned to a frown. "What are you doing? Are you … doing _up_ my buttons? Filip, it's boiling hot in here!"

She twisted in his arms to look quizzically at him, and he shrugged sheepishly as she started fixing the borrowed work shirt she'd thrown on, keeping it unbuttoned and knotted above her midriff over her tank top.

"Just thought … Never mind. Where's Charlie?" the biker asked, keeping his voice casual as he absently trailed a fingertip over his own name stitched over the pocket of the shirt.

"Sent him to get me iced coffee before I melted. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Course," Chibs nodded. "He's a prospect. He's meant to do what he's told. You can tell him to dance naked in the yard if you want …" He trailed off realising that what he'd said was contrary to what he was trying to achieve, trying to recover his footing quickly. "But maybe don't do that. No one needs to see that. Although … it would probably entertain Tig and Christ knows that man's got the attention span o' a goldfish … You don't want to see that though. Do you?"

"The prospect dancing naked?" Eden looked at him strangely, before reaching up to touch a hand to his brow. "Filip, how long have you been working in this heat?"

He tried to chuckle, but looking down into her gorgeous green eyes and taking in the sight of her toned curves - long tan legs on display in those tiny shorts, her full lips slick with gloss and begging to be kissed - he could only frown. "You know he fancies you?"

"Charlie?" she guessed, laughing lightly. "If he does, it's just a silly crush."

"He's a good-looking lad," Chibs shrugged. "When his face ain't beat to shite."

A little smile crept over Eden's face. "Jealous, baby?"

"Don't test me, Eden …" he warned, his scowl deepening.

But she just laughed and threw her arms around his neck. "I will when you're being an idiot," she insisted, but planting a little kiss squarely on his lips. "You really think I might run off with one of the prospects?"

"No," he admitted, letting his arms loop loosely around her waist. "Probably not. Definitely not Wheels."

"No, definitely not Wheels," she agreed. "Charlie is cute though … Oh, stop it! You are an idiot, you know that? Charlie's what? Twenty-one? I could almost be his mother!"

"And I could be your da," Chibs sighed.

"But you're not," she shrugged. "Although I could call you 'Daddy' if you're into that kinda thing …"

That finally got a laugh out of him and he started to realise he was probably being an idiot, not just making the most of what'd he'd got instead of questioning it. "You're a bad wee minx," he chuckled, letting his hands slip to her ass again and pulling her in tight against him.

"And you're still on the clock."

"But since _I'm_ actually supposed to be the boss round here …" Chibs started, backing Eden towards the desk and reaching to tilt the blinds closed over the window before pushing her down on top of the scattered paperwork, kissing her deeply. "_I_ make the rules."

* * *

The sudden shattering of glass and wail of a car alarm startled Eden and even distracted Chibs from devoting himself to his old lady.

"What the hell was that?" she gasped, flustered by the interruption and letting him pull her to her feet before he headed for the door, cursing under his breath.

"Can't leave these wee shites alone for five flaming minutes …" Chibs muttered, only stopping in his tracks when he spotted the culprit stood beside a freshly valeted car they kept as a loaner - now with a newly ventilated front windscreen - a baseball bat casually swinging from one hand. "In the name o' fucking Christ!"

"Ah, finally – the boss," came the greeting. "This lot told me you were busy. Thought I'd get your attention."

"My attention?" the Samcro president snapped. "Oh, you got my attention all right. And you'll be fucking lucky if I don't turn it to taking that bat and shoving it up your arse! What the holy hell are you playing at, fella?!"

"I called him."

"And who the fuck are you?" Chibs demanded, turning his glare on the bottle-blonde woman who stepped up with her arms folded smugly across her ample chest.

"One of your little tarts stole my car keys. No one takes what's mine."

Chibs stared at her in disbelief and then snorted with laughter before pinching the bridge of his nose wearily. "Give me fucking strength …" he muttered. "So you're the broad wi' the Beamer you reckon we damaged? Well, congratulations, you just part-traded it for a Volvo wi' no front windscreen. Now, you got thirty seconds to take your pet gorilla and fuck off outta my yard …"

"Are you threatening me? I'd think very carefully about threatening me if I was you."

"I ain't the one swinging the bat, darlin'. Yet."

"Oh, you think you're gonna take it off me, old man? I'd like to see you try," the man wielding it snarled.

The Samcro president simply smirked at that. "You ain't the sharpest tool in the box, are ya, son?" he drawled. "You got any idea who you're dealing wi' here?"

"Do you?" the woman snapped back. "Wait here, Mack – I'm getting my keys."

Storming towards the office, where Eden was stood watching from the doorway, she unceremoniously shoved past the younger woman, who only tried to get her attention when it looked like she might start ripping the place apart to find what she was looking for.

"Uh, can I help you?"

"Where are my goddamn keys, you little tramp?"

"Rude," Eden frowned, before a thought seemed to occur to her and she brightened as she reached into a pocket of her cut-offs. "Oh, these keys?" she asked, all pseudo-innocence, dangling them from a finger.

"_Bitch!_" the fuming woman spat, making a grab for them.

But Eden was too quick for her, stepping out of reach at the last second and only adding to her growing frustration and fury.

"Give me my fucking keys, before I tear that pretty hair out!" came the scream.

"You want 'em? Catch …" Eden shrugged, seeming to throw the keys straight at their seething owner, only for them to fly past her and be plucked out of the air by a waiting Chibs.

"Ta," he grinned. "Now, be a love and pass me the keys o' the Volvo – the nice lady's leaving and she's taking our new friend wi' the bat too. Just as soon as he's finished his wee chat wi' Quinn."

His old lady glanced across the yard, her eyes widening at the sight of the mountainous biker now calmly holding the bat in one huge fist and its struggling owner by the scruff of the neck in the other, his feet dangling a good inch off the ground.

"You haven't heard the last of this," the older woman gasped, pale beneath her caked-on make-up, before she seemed to think the better of elaborating and scuttled off.

"I better fucking had," Chibs sighed, watching her go before pulling Eden into his arms and sinking down on the office chair with her on his lap, resting his head against her shoulder. "I ain't cut out for customer service."

* * *

After the longest of days at the flat-out garage, part of Chibs felt like he should either take Eden to his for some peace or at least let her go back to Seth's apartment for a chilled-out night, but she'd waved off his suggestions, insisting she'd be more than happy to hang with him at the clubhouse.

It felt like she was getting the raw end of the deal to him, but she'd seemed content with takeaway food and a few beers by the bar, chatting and laughing with those joining them – most of his brothers, a couple of their old ladies, a few of the other non-patched mechanics. It definitely wasn't going to be a rowdy one by the looks of it, for any of them.

By the time he'd retired to a seat in the corner from which to preside over what he still couldn't get used to thinking of as his domain, some of their number had already called it quits and taken their leave. He'd watched with a largely neglected cigarette between his fingers as Eden accepted a peck on the cheek from Bug and hugged his wife Bonnie to say goodnight, before she made her way to his side and handed him a glass of whiskey just how he liked it – neat, one chunk of ice.

"You, my darlin', are an angel," he told her, leaning up for a kiss. "Seriously, giving up your day to be stuck dealing wi' our shite … Thank you, baby."

But she just shrugged it off with a little smile, her hands settling on his shoulders as she moved to stand behind him, her fingers kneading lightly at his muscles. "My man needed me – where else would I be?"

Her ministrations drew a groan of pleasure from him, prompting a grinning Tig to holler at them to get a room as he headed wearily for the door himself.

"Night, Tiggy," Chibs shouted back, flipping him the bird and pulling Eden down onto his lap. "Smartest thing he's said all day," he told her, with a little grin as he then stood up with her in his arms, carrying her bridal style towards the dorms.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing, mister?" she feigned innocence, her arms around his neck and a knowing sparkle in her eyes.

"Taking my old lady to bed."

"About time."

* * *

"That's what you've had on all day?" Chibs groaned in appreciation, leaning back against the pillows to watch as Eden shimmied out of the denim cut-offs that had been distracting enough already. The tiny crimson thong was next-level hot though. "C'mere."

Still in her tank top, she decided to oblige him, ending up straddling his hips as she let down her hair and he slid a hand into it to pull her into a deep kiss.

"Off," he instructed, gesturing to her top when they broke apart, his eyes fixed on her while she slowly lifted it up and over her head to fall discarded to the floor. "Jesus, Eden ..."

She flushed a little, as she still was prone to when he made his attraction so blatantly apparent, and the sight of her in the matching bra that displayed more than it covered up was definitely fuelling his desire.

"Good job I didn't see this earlier, lass," Chibs growled, his hands sliding over her thighs. "I'd have shut the bloody garage and gone bankrupt just to get you back here."

Eden leaned down to whisper in his ear, a shiver coursing down her spine as those strong hands skated up over her ribs and then reached around to unhook the fastening at her back. "Are you going to just look at me?" She shifted on top of him as he peeled away the delicate lace, slowly grinding against the growing bulge in his jeans. "Or are you going to … fuck me?"

The lust-blown gaze focused on her darkened, even as it flickered from her bared breasts to her lips to her eyes, and she gasped in surprise when he sat up suddenly, depositing her on her back in the centre of the bed.

"Careful what you wish for, love," he said, his voice low and rough. "You want a fuck, you'll get a fuck."

She just about managed to wait for him to strip before pulling him into a long, passionate kiss on top of her, their tongues tangling intimately, hands all over each other.

"I need you," Eden murmured against his lips, letting go just long enough to let him reach for a condom. "I want you inside me. Fuck me, Filip, _please_ …"

Already rock-hard for his gorgeous old lady and spurred on by her words, Chibs kissed her hungrily before guiding her onto her hands and knees, making her cry out when he took her from behind in one long thrust. One hand gripped her hip, the other caressing the length of her spine – that tenderness even in the midst of something more raw and primal not lost on her, and she let him pull her up onto her knees to lean back against his chest as he murmured filthy sweet nothings in her ear and pressed hot kisses to her shoulder.

"Filip," she moaned breathlessly. "Oh god, yes …"

"Come for me, my darlin'," he urged her, holding her close as his thrusts became more erratic, one hand sliding downwards until his thumb grazed that sensitive little bundle of nerves and she arched against him.

"Oh, Filip." Eden caught her lower lip in her teeth and raked a hand through her dishevelled hair, on the verge of falling apart in his arms. "I'm so close."

Part of him wanted to just fuck her hard and fast until she fell over the edge and dragged him with her, but instead, the biker let himself slip out of her – shushing her whimper of protest as he laid her back down against the pillows, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her trembling body before easing one smooth leg over his shoulder and sheathing himself inside her tight heat again with a groan of his own.

It was probably just as he brought her to orgasm that the chain on the main gate into the compound was cut, but the decidedly occupied couple heard nothing until they were laid spent in each other's arms – and the first window shattered.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Uh, Merry Christmas ...**

* * *

**Twenty-Three  
**

The Samcro president's dark eyes were hard as he stood in the clubhouse doorway and surveyed the scene in front of him, his fists clenched and his jaw tight.

"Mother_fuckers_," he muttered below his breath.

Across the yard, cars and bikes waiting for either repair or to be picked up by their owners now sat in worse shape than when they'd arrived – windows smashed, tyres slashed, paintwork scored. They'd all busted a gut to try to get on top of the backlog for nothing.

Worse than that though was the attack on the clubhouse itself. Bullet holes in windows and walls were something he never wanted to see on his watch, and yet there they were – haphazard rather than a concerted deadly effort, but still concrete proof of an attack on what should have been their stronghold.

He was fucking furious.

But, after everything they'd been through in recent years, the overriding emotion was still relief. No one was hurt. Not his men or their families, not the few club girls who had spent the night. Not Eden.

Chibs closed the door and turned back to the bar where dishevelled Sons downed whiskey shots and swore bloody vengeance and even more dishevelled croweaters, tumbled out of whatever beds they'd ended up in by the commotion and in little more than their underwear, huddled together miserably on battered couches.

He scanned the room, quickly finding his old lady perched on a bar stool in a Samcro t-shirt of his, her bed-tousled hair falling over one shoulder as she leaned her elbow on the bar and toyed with the tiny silver hoop halfway up her ear. Charlie was by her side like a guard dog – if that guard dog happened to be a damn labradoodle, the Scotsman snorted to himself. He couldn't fault the boy though. He had been the one to order him to stay with her and the prospect had done his duty. He was even, to his credit, managing to keep his eyes off her bare legs. At least while Chibs was watching.

He knew they were all waiting for him. For answers, for orders. But first things first.

Crossing the bar, he touched a hand to his old lady's head, leaning in for a kiss that was more about reassuring himself she was safe than about comforting her. "You okay, pet?"

Despite the worry in her tired eyes, she nodded and he set aside his duty as president to step up and address what had happened just a few seconds longer, pressing a kiss and then another to her lips before reluctantly pulling away.

Now he had to switch roles.

"Charlie, lad, take Eden home to her brother's place," he instructed, turning to the rest of his expectant brothers as soon as he'd been given an obedient "Yes, boss" from the young man.

"Hang on a minute," Eden protested, taken aback by her sudden and seemingly complete dismissal.

"Church," Chibs ordered the waiting Sons, pulling his cut on over his shirt and squaring his shoulders as he spoke. "Call Tig and the others – get 'em back here."

"Filip …"

"Lockdown?" Quinn asked.

"Not yet, but put everyone on notice. Lyla and Flick too. And-"

"_Filip!_"

Eden's frustration lifted her voice above everything else going on and an awkward hush fell over the clubhouse, the look her old man favoured her with not doing anything to make her feel less uneasy.

"I gotta handle this, lass," he said tightly. "Go with Charlie. Stay at Seth's and I'll-"

"Are you serious? I'm not going anywhere."

"Eden, I need to be able to know you're safe ..."

"But you can't just ask me to leave like-" she tried.

"I ain't _asking_. Now, do as you're told and let that be the end o' it."

Eden almost physically recoiled at his tone. It was a side to him she hadn't yet seen – stern, cold, authoritative. A far cry from his usual easy shows of affection, all warm smiles and casual caresses. Her instinct was to push back, challenge him. But something told her this wasn't the time or the place.

Not that it stopped her glaring at him in an icy stand-off just long enough to leave the rest of those gathered shifting uncomfortably.

"Give me five minutes to get dressed, Charlie," she said finally, addressing the prospect even though her sharp green eyes remained trained on her old man. "Unless you need to supervise that too."

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off with as much dignity as could be expected while wearing nothing but a t-shirt.

"Uh, should I …?" Charlie asked, flushed and floundering as he remembered his orders not to leave her side and took half a step after her before realising that probably wasn't quite what his president had envisaged when he put him on minder duty.

"Not if you want to keep that fucking cut."

* * *

Having sat in stony silence in the passenger seat of the Sam's Yard pick-up truck – after a slight delay while a slashed tyre was changed - Eden finally turned to Charlie when he pulled up outside the apartment block where she lived with her brother.

"Are you supposed to come in or go back?"

"Uh, Chibs wants me back at the clubhouse. Probably to help with the clean-up."

"Oh, well, if that's what _Chibs_ wants," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she grabbed her bag and reached for the handle of the door.

"You shouldn't have challenged him like that," the prospect blurted out, almost regretting saying anything when she rounded on him. But despite how much he liked the pretty paramedic, his loyalty was still unquestionably to his president – and all the more so, given that Chibs had been the one to actually give him a chance. "Not in the clubhouse. Not in front of everyone."

"Listen, Charlie, I know _you_ have to jump when anyone snaps their fingers, but I'm not a damn prospect!" Eden started hotly.

"No, you're an old lady," he shrugged, like that explained it all.

"So, what? I have to act like a 1950s housewife? Be the good little woman, speak only when I'm spoken to? I didn't realise you big, bad bikers were so fucking precious! Oh, go home, Charlie – maybe you'll get a pat on the head."

Exasperated and hardening her heart against the fact the young man looked like she'd just shot his puppy in front of him, Eden clambered out of the truck and slammed the door, still fuming as she let herself into the quiet apartment and sank down on the couch. There was a slight tremor in the hand she held out to judge how much the night's events had rattled her and she clenched her fingers tightly to make it go away.

"Another row with Chibs?"

Her hand flew to her heart as she choked down a little shriek of alarm, startled by the stealthy appearance of her brother.

"Jesus, Seth, you scared the shit out of me!"

"Sorry," he managed, around a cavernous yawn. "Figured if you were rocking up at this time of night, someone might need a beat-down …"

"Oh, don't you start!" she snapped. "I swear I'm going to _punch_ the next person hellbent on treating me like a fucking five-year-old!"

"Hey, hey, simmer down there, Rocky," Seth said, eyes now wide and his hands raised in surrender. "I did _not_ teach you how to throw a right hook just to end up on the receiving end. Now, come on, tell me what's happened so I can decide whose side I'm on."

She snorted at that. "You're always on my side."

"Mmm, usually," he said, sprawling out beside her on the couch and kicking his bare feet up on the coffee table. "But Chibs ain't as big a prick as your usual type … Ow!"

Despite having just punched him in the arm, Eden relented enough to let him throw said arm around her and pull her into his side, laying her head on his shoulder. "Don't overreact," she warned. "Someone … kinda shot up the clubhouse."

"_WHAT?!_"

"I said not to overreact," she sighed, slumping back against the cushions when he abandoned her in favour of jumping up to pace the floor.

"That fucking Scottish prick …"

* * *

"When I said I'd only kick your ass for the big shit, that wasn't carte blanche to piss off my little sister – and don't even fucking start me on having her dodging bullets in the middle of the night."

"There was no dodging anything," Chibs sighed, leaning wearily against the wall outside Seth's apartment. "She was in bed wi' me when it happened."

"Not helping your case. You know who was behind it?" Seth asked, those huge arms folded across his chest, showing no sign of moving aside to let him in.

"Got a fair idea," Chibs shrugged, not prepared to disclose anything to a non-patch. Not yet anyway. "Look, man, it's been a long fucking night …"

In fact, he'd barely slept, between an emergency session around the table and a few hours largely spent staring towards the ceiling in the darkness, acutely aware of how empty his bed felt.

He'd reached for his phone more than once in the early hours, only to grit his teeth and set it back down before he could give in to the urge to call or text. No fucking way was he apologising for trying to keep his old lady safe. No matter how pissed off she was.

"You here to apologise?"

The biker levelled a flat stare at the boxer. "No."

Seth seemed to take a moment to process that and then snorted, turning to grab his kit bag from just inside the door and holding it open to let Chibs in. "Your funeral," he said. "I gotta get to the gym. For what it's worth, I did try telling her that protecting her ain't exactly a hanging offence in my book."

"I appreciate that."

"And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop pissing off my sister."

"It ain't for lack o' fucking trying," Chibs muttered, as he headed inside to face the music.

* * *

Sat at the breakfast bar, a lit cigarette between his fingers, the biker watched as Eden set about making coffee in baggy sweatpants that sat low on her hips and a cropped t-shirt, the waves of her hair held back from her face with a wide fabric band. He felt like he hadn't slept in days and she still looked as fucking fresh-faced as ever. That and the stony silence between them rankled at him. He'd rather just have a blazing row and damn well get it over with in favour of the inevitable fiery make-up sex.

"Never had you pegged as a brat ..."

Eden stopped in her tracks and then rounded on him furiously. Yup, that'd do it for the blazing row, although he was less sure about the make-up sex. Fiery or otherwise.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" she demanded, but he simply shrugged in the face of her anger.

"Sulking 'cause you didn't get your own way. What would you call it?"

"You've got some damn nerve, Filip Telford," she seethed, banging down a cup of coffee in front of him. "I might be younger than you, but you can't have it both ways – fucking me one minute and then sending me away like a child the next!"

"Keeping you safe is fuck all to do wi' age," he shot back, jabbing his cigarette in her direction to make his point. "Unlike you disrespecting me in front o' everyone. How the hell do you think that looks, huh? Mother charter president can't even keep his own old lady in line …"

"_In line-_"

"Oh, don't start some feminist bullshit when you know damn well what I mean. I ain't after some cowed little woman tied to the fucking kitchen sink. Eden, you're smart, independent, you know your own mind – that's sexy as hell. You got a job, a life beyond … us, and I'm glad o' that too. But when it comes to the club, it's gotta be my way or nothin'. And I ain't gonna apologise for that," Chibs insisted, stubbing out his smoke as he spoke and getting up to round the counter, boxing her in, even as she crossed her arms over her chest defensively and refused to look him in the eye.

But he still reached out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, softening just a little in his still firm approach. "I love you," he said, letting his hands settle on the bare skin above the low waistband of her sweatpants. "Can't lie, I've already tried kidding mesel' I just love getting me dick in a proper wee stunner the lads keep reminding me should be well out o' my league. But it ain't that. Well, it ain't _just_ that. I love you in a way that means I can't fucking breathe at the thought o' someone taking you from me. So I ain't ever gonna stop trying to keep you safe, lass – even if you bloody hate me for it."

Eden dared a look into his brown eyes and almost wished she hadn't, seeing everything he had already lost reflected there, making her own heart ache.

"Filip …"

"You've already had one manipulative bastard in your life," he ploughed on. "I ain't gonna make my past an excuse for how I treat you. But I ain't gonna make promises I can't keep either – I can't tell you I'll change, because I know this is how it has to be."

"But you shutting me out …" Eden whispered, letting her hands rest on his well-worn cut, her fingers grazing over the president's patch that she knew might as well be seared in flesh instead of leather. "I … I don't think I know how to get right with that."

A rueful look crossed Chibs' scarred face, his own fingers still softly caressing her skin. "We shoulda had this talk before now," he said quietly. "Before we got in too deep."

"What are you saying?" she asked quietly, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Filip?"

"Maybe … Maybe I can't be what you need," he admitted, hating himself for being the cause of the hurt in her eyes. "You deserve better."

"Don't," she tried. "Don't say that."

"Oh, sweetheart," the biker sighed, brushing a tear from beneath her long lashes and then tilting her face back up to his for a kiss he didn't want to break.

"If you don't want me …"

"It ain't that simple and you know it. Jesus, Eden, what was I thinking dragging you into this life? I look around and all I see are ghosts – couples torn apart or following each other into the grave, so much fucking grief. Jax and Tara, Opie and Donna, Otto and Luann, Clay and Gemma …"

"But you're trying to make things right," Eden said. "To get the club back on a better path, like Jax wanted, like his dad wanted."

"Can't do it overnight, pet," he said, his hand cupping her cheek. "Wish I could. Can't promise I can do it at all. And you deserve so much more than hanging around waiting for the next shitstorm to blow over. Happiness, security, the whole damn picket fence deal – two-point-four kids and a dog."

"I don't want that – I just want _you_," she managed tearfully, kissing him desperately. "Please, Filip, I'm sorry. I'll try harder, I won't-"

But Chibs cut her off, shushing away her efforts to make it right and kissing her back as he held her close. "None o' that, you hear me? You got nothing to apologise for and don't you ever go changing. Because you, my gorgeous girl, are incredible just as you are."

He was trying to do the right thing, but he was only fucking human and, as was so often the case, it was harder than he'd imagined to walk the fine line between comfort and something else. Later, when he had time to process what had happened, he'd realise just how powerless he had been to resist giving in to her tearful encouragement. Soft, tender kisses full of regret had turned urgent and he'd found himself lifting her up onto the edge of the counter, her hands gripping his shoulders as they ended up throwing caution to the wind and making love one last time.

Chibs buried his face against her neck when he finally came inside her, pressing kisses to her skin, each one his wordless attempt at saying everything he didn't have the words for.

"I love you," Eden whispered, tears slipping down her own cheeks as he fought to pull himself together and then gently eased them apart.

"I know," he said, his voice thick with emotion, straightening his clothes and then lifting her down to do the same before stealing one final lingering kiss. "And I never wanna see that turn to hate. It's better this way."

"Filip …"

"Goodbye, darlin'. Take care o' yersel'."

It was only when the door closed behind him that a hand flew to Eden's mouth and the stunned young woman took a shuddering deep breath and fully crumpled into heartbroken tears.

It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: To those of you who celebrate it, hope you had a lovely Christmas, or at least just found a way to keep on keeping on if you find holidays tough. It was great to hear from so many of you last time around, even if I did break hearts ... I can say one thing for sure - we're a long way from done. Thanks for reading! T x**

* * *

**Twenty-Four**

Sitting down on the edge of the desk in the Sam's Yard office, Chibs glanced at Lyla and then cast his eyes towards the ceiling with a little sigh of resignation.

"How long you gonna keep giving me that look, darlin'?"

"What look? Oh, you mean the one of absolute disbelief and despair that you've thrown away the best thing to happen to you in a very long time? That look?" she asked archly, returning to her paperwork.

"Aye, I suppose that'd be the one," he muttered.

Lyla threw down her pen and finally looked properly at her boss, shaking her head. "I still just don't understand, Chibs. You two were so good together. I could see it, everyone could see it, and I thought you could too. I've been waiting for you to come to your senses of your own accord, but it's been weeks now and … here we are. I know you love Eden, I know you miss her – you wouldn't look so damn sad all the time if you didn't. And that poor girl is completely _heartbroken_."

"You've seen her?"

"Of course I've seen her. She's one of the few proper friends I've got and I'm not giving her up just because you can't get your head out of your ass."

"She doing okay?"

"No! Like I said, she's totally heartbroken and I can't say I blame her. One minute you're talking ink with her, for Christ's sake, and the next, you're walking out. God, that's two men now who've gone and let her down when the going got tough ..."

"Whoa, hang on now! I ain't like that Rockwell fucker," Chibs protested. "I'm trying to do what's best here."

"And the two of you alone and miserable, that's best?"

The biker president, his heart heavy, didn't have an answer for that.

"Oh, by the way, tomorrow?" Lyla started to add, in the kind of overly innocent voice that instantly made Chibs suspicious. "I've taken the executive decision to give myself a half-day."

"Sure," he said cautiously. "You work hard enough, Ly – you deserve a break. Can I ask why?"

"Because I've decided I'm clocking off early and I'm taking Eden shopping," she said firmly, shooting him a look that dared him to challenge her. "I'm going to make her treat herself to something ridiculously sexy and then we're having a proper girls' night out."

"Out …?" Chibs echoed weakly.

"Out. In a club – one with dancing and fancy cocktails, not warm beer and bikers. Somewhere we can … really let our hair down."

That, Chibs thought as he smiled tightly, sounded like a terrible idea.

* * *

Jogging into the run-down apartment block, with his partner trailing him, Desi still found time to nag her over his shoulder.

"Come on, Eden, it'll do you good – it's just a few drinks after work, no big deal. You need to get out more."

"Look, I know you mean well, but—Oh, shit, the elevator's out. What floor was it again?"

"Twelfth," Desi sighed, shouldering his medical bag.

"Then how about we save our breath for the climb? Let's move," Eden said, already heading for the doors that led to the dark, narrow staircase, picking up speed as she found her footing on the steep concrete slabs.

"Just give it some thought though, yeah?"

"If you must know, I'm going out tomorrow night anyway. Girls' night. Lyla insisted."

"That's what I'm talking about," Desi grinned. "Got any wild plans?"

"Hope not – not after working these shifts anyway. Can't remember the last time I was this exhausted."

"That ain't like you," her partner frowned. "You really gotta get your sparkle back, girl. Now, come on, step it up. We ain't even halfway."

Eden gritted her teeth as he overtook her, tightening her grip on her medical bag. It seemed to feel heavier than usual, but she said nothing, focusing on saving her energy.

* * *

Only realising when the blare of a car horn startled him from his reverie that he'd been staring into space, absently weighing a wrench in his hand, Chibs threw it down irritably and headed out into the yard. A frown creased his brow at the sight of a familiar cherry-red convertible Miata pulling up in a shower of gravel, its owner looking flustered in the passenger seat and his right-hand man behind the wheel.

"Not that I do not appreciate such outward manifestations of your concern, but I would thank you to mind my paintwork, Alexander!" Venus chastised him, smoothing the floaty skirt of her low-cut navy wrap dress as she stepped out of the car in elegant nude heels when Chibs moved to open the door. "Ever the gentleman, Filip. I'm afraid I can only apologise for the likely disruption in your day …"

"The hell happened to you, darlin'?" he demanded, as soon as he clocked the small but nasty cut to her cheek.

His gaze sent one perfectly manicured hand to the wounded area, the light touch drawing a wince that was quickly waved away. "Oh, it's barely anything," she tried, but she was cut off by an angry snort from Tig.

"The hell it is," he declared hotly, glancing between the statuesque – and, some would have said, unlikely - object of his affections and his concerned president. "Some fucking piece of shit tweaker tried to rob the store. Broad fucking daylight."

"Jesus," Chibs swore, immediately furious that anyone connected to the club be targeted like that and Venus had already had enough to deal with in his book, given the small-minded graffiti that had once been sprayed over the front of the little boutique that had long been her dream and which Tig had helped finally make a reality just six months ago. But the Sons had stepped up then to spread the word such an attack would not be tolerated and he would make sure they stepped up again to handle this. "You sure you're okay, Vee?"

"I promise I am quite recovered, although I must confess I would not say no to a restorative tipple … Purely medicinal, you know?" she smiled.

"Aye, I've been known to have a few o' those mesel'," Chibs said, a little grin quirking his lips as he held out a chivalrous arm to her. "Come on – I got just the thing."

* * *

Once ensconced in the clubhouse, double measures of whiskey in front of each of them, Chibs insisted on hearing every detail of the clumsy, opportunistic raid on Mannequin. He'd have been more inclined to dismiss it as just shit luck, had it not been the fifth report of crystal meth raising its ugly head in just a few weeks.

Someone was peddling that poison in their own goddamn backyard.

"Always gonna be some godforsaken wee shites willing to pump any matter o' filth into their veins," Chibs mused, swilling the amber liquid in the bottom of his glass. "And they ain't gonna give a fuck what they gotta do to get it. But what I wanna know is who's behind it?"

"You think it's organised?"

"I think it looks like it might be taking hold," the Scotsman admitted. "Maybe someone who's been dabbling getting cocky? What? Nah, come on, Tiggy, I know that look – you got something to say, say it."

"Alexander …" Venus tried, a low warning note to her usually melodic voice.

"I just think maybe it don't help to see the Sons of Anarchy sit back and do nothing when someone shoots up our goddamn clubhouse. You know I'm in your corner, brother, but I can't help thinking it looks fucking weak. Sends the wrong message."

Chibs' hold on his glass tightened, even as he slowly nodded. Not in agreement, just like he was taking in every word that was said. And he was. It was a response even Tig had the sense to recognise – but not, it seemed, to back down from.

"Look, man, I know you got a lot on your shoulders and I know this shit with Eden's got you spun around …"

"You think me not wanting to double-down on some dick-swinging contest with a bunch o' pathetic pricks trying to prove they can play wi' the big boys is anything to do wi' Eden?" Chibs demanded angrily, a raw nerve touched - even if he didn't want to admit it. "What d'ya want me to say, Tig? Oh, aye, have at it – go in all guns blazing because some wannabe biker's bitch decided to stir shit over a fucking car? Wise up!"

"Oh, sure, you being a moody fucker's got fuck all to do with missing that tight little piece of ass," Tig muttered, before jabbing an ill-tempered finger in the face across the table. "You, asshole, need to get laid."

"Gentlemen, please!" Venus intervened, stepping between the two men as they both rose furiously to their feet, fists clenched. "While I am sure the, uh, therapeutic benefits associated with the lovely Miss Eden's company are not to be underestimated, I would not counsel seeking comfort from a no doubt inferior substitute, Filip …" Moving on swiftly at the dark look from the biker, she downed the remainder of her whiskey and fished in her purse for a compact to check her lipstick. "But I am equally sure that is by-the-by. And the more pressing question is what to do about this breach of my dear little store's admittedly rather lax security? Am I to consult with those tasked more formally to uphold law and order in this troubled town?"

Tig sat back down in his chair, while Chibs – still scowling – helped himself to another generous measure behind the bar before leaning his hands on the wooden surface as he considered their next move.

"Go back to the store. Call Collins," he ordered. "If there's a drug problem creeping back in, can't hurt to have the sheriff on alert. We ain't twisted up in any kinda supply chains no more and Sons ain't ever been down wi' dealers in our town. If you need help wi' any clean-up, I'll send Wheels and Charlie. The wee shite who did this, any hope o' an ID?"

"I cannot say I knew him," Venus mused, sounding almost apologetic for her lack of a concrete answer. "But I did get a good look, before he lashed out. Scrawny, sandy hair, a face I would know again if I saw it. My suspicions were aroused by his mere presence, you see. I am more open-minded than most, but even I did not see the likes of him having much interest in perusing the lingerie amongst which he was trying most unsuccessfully to hide."

"So what was he after? Just cash?"

"Anything of value, I suppose. I fear he will be sorely disappointed by his spoils – the contents of a box for charitable donations that I kept by the cash register and a handful of admittedly beautiful, but ultimately mere costume gems from the jewellery display."

"So a tweaker and a fucking idiot to boot," Chibs sighed, wiping a hand over his face. "Bloody marvellous."

* * *

Breathing a little heavier than she would have liked after climbing the twelve flights of stairs, Eden was relieved to finally follow Desi through the ominously ajar front door of the apartment they had been dispatched to, although that relief soon slipped away when she took in the bleak scene in front of them.

"Looks like crystal meth," Desi said grimly, nodding towards the drug paraphernalia on the coffee table.

Eden reached for the empty pill packet in the middle of it all and quickly scanned the printed text. "Fentanyl," she confirmed. "Hell of a cocktail. Hello? Anyone home? Paramedics …"

Even as she called out, she crossed the apartment to peer into what turned out to be a bedroom and then the bathroom, finding their patient face down on the tile floor. "Shit. Desi, in here. Sir? Sir, can you hear me? Male, unresponsive, suspected overdose – get the Narcan ready. I'm going to get him on his side … Holy shit, Joel!"

"You know him?" Desi asked, shooting her a searching glance, clearly concerned how deep the connection might run. He knew, as they all did, that being called unwittingly to the aid of a friend or family member was the stuff of nightmares for paramedics.

"Joel DeLuca," she said grimly, already trying to find a vein in a muscular arm order to help the dark-haired, deathly pale young man. "He's one of Seth's boxers. Or at least he was until he started skipping training sessions a couple of months ago. What the fuck was he thinking getting caught up with this kinda shit?"

"What are any of them ever thinking?" her partner shrugged. "If they're thinking at all."

"Fucking idiot," Eden swore, equally parts saddened and angry at the sight of so much potential in danger of being lost on a bathroom floor. "Fucking stupid idiot."


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Happy New Year - thanks for all the support and I hope 2020 is everything you'd wish for yourselves!**

* * *

**Twenty-Five**

"I'm so glad you didn't cancel on me, doll," Lyla beamed, slipping her arm through Eden's as they window-shopped while sipping iced coffees. "You've had such a rough time lately and I hate seeing you sad. Plus, I love the kids, but I am _so_ ready for some grown-up time."

"They at your mom's?"

"Yup, and they're staying over, so we can stay out as late as we want and come home as drunk as we want."

Eden couldn't help laughing at her friend's infectious enthusiasm. "You sound like a teenager yourself, Ly."

"Sad, isn't it?" she giggled. "That's what single parenthood has reduced me to – getting my kicks when I can. Oh my god, look at that dress! I wonder if that's real leather or …?"

Finding herself caught by the hand and trailed into the nearest store, Eden's eyes widened when she got a better look. "Lyla, I've got _bikinis_ that cover more than that!"

"Then we need to get your pert little ass some better bikinis too," Lyla shrugged, sticking her tongue out at the bemused paramedic before starting to rifle through the rails and grabbing anything that caught her eye.

"Are you seriously trying all those on?"

"Of course not, silly. These are for you."

* * *

Giving her head a little shake in disbelief that she was actually even considering the tiny garment she'd poured herself into in the relative sanctuary of the changing cubicle, Eden hesitantly pulled back the curtain just enough for Lyla to get a peek – and was immediately greeted with a little shriek of glee as the other woman's hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh my god, _Eden!_" Lyla all but squealed, ignoring any efforts to hush her in favour of whipping back the curtain fully and demanding a twirl to get the full effect. "You look absolutely incredible, you bitch. If you weren't just the loveliest, I would totally hate you right now. You have to get it. You absolutely _have_ to."

It was more a shimmer of gold than anything as substantial as a dress, thousands of tiny sequins all catching the light as their wearer turned self-consciously. Barely-there spaghetti straps and a plunging v-neck that only stopped just above her navel allowed for nothing underneath, but the former porn star and director considered herself something of a body expert and had suspected even before a trial that her friend had the figure to pull it off hidden away. And she now considered herself well and truly vindicated.

"It barely covers my ass," Eden said, trying to tug the dress down a little, only to realise she was just revealing even more cleavage as a result. "Not to mention the rest of me."

Lyla frowned, hauling her in front of a full-length mirror and swatting at her hands to stop her trying to cover herself up. "But you can see you look hot, right? I mean, I know you're not blind – they wouldn't let you drive that ambulance if you were. Is that a little smile? Come on, you know I'm right!"

"It's just … pretty full-on."

"Listen, if you're not going to be comfortable, we'll look for something else. You gotta wear that dress with confidence or it'll wear you. I'm just saying you're a goddamn knockout in it. And Chibs would fucking _die_."

Eden snorted at that. "But he's not going to see it, is he? I know you think I should, like, show him what he's missing, but …"

But Lyla shook her head. "Nah, screw that. You get something that makes _you_ feel good, doll. For you, not for some man. Not even Chibs."

"All I'll be feeling in this is a draft," Eden pointed out, but there was a smile creeping across her face and she turned to look in the mirror again, taking a deep breath as she twisted and turned. "Fuck it, I'll get it."

"Yay!" Lyla beamed, clapping her hands in approval as she bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement. "Now … shoes."

* * *

Relieved they had at least managed to get the garage's air con system working again when they'd had the rest of the repairs done following the shooting, Chibs still abandoned any attempt at keeping the paperwork up to scratch in Lyla's absence and headed out of the office, intending to settle himself on the picnic bench for a smoke break – even though he was actually intending to clock off soon for the evening.

The call from Seth, summoning him to the boxing gym, had certainly been unexpected and he hadn't entirely ruled out the possibility of a trap, quite possibly with a beating at the end of it, but he'd decided to go satisfy his curiosity anyway. But strolling through the garage itself stopped him in his tracks, when he clocked the day's assortment of Sons and non-patched mechanics all huddled around the trunk-end of a car.

"Yous do know the engine's down the other bloody end?" he called, bemused by what they were up to – especially when the chatter died suspiciously quick and the group moved to disperse. "Oh, don't let me interrupt yer wee sewing circle, lads."

"Sorry, boss," came a chorus of mutters, but Chibs' curiosity was definitely piqued.

"Ah, come on now, who's gonna let me in on the secret?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he glanced round at the guilty faces before settling on the prospects as easy targets. "Boys?"

"N-nothing, boss," Charlie managed.

"It was Bug who showed us!" Wheels blurted out, caving under the pressure and drawing a few groans and a black look from the intelligence officer.

Chibs cocked his head on one side. "So not nothing then. Unless Bug's some kinda magician, managing to show you something that ain't even there. Is that it, Bug? You some kind o' Houdini now?"

"If I said yes …"

"Hand it over."

Bug slapped his personal smart phone into Chibs' outstretched hand with a sigh. He could have said nothing and left the president to work it out for himself, but he figured the damage was already done.

"Lyla's Instagram," he explained, having long since taken it on himself as intelligence officer to move the club with the times, monitoring social media accounts for anyone connected to the Sons in case of anything cropping up that could breach their security and warning the likes of the croweaters, hang-arounds and the Red Woody staff that there was a line that shouldn't be crossed when it came to posting pictures of club members or premises. "Looks like she's, uh, getting ready for a night out. With Eden."

"I know," Chibs shrugged. "She told me that they were going-"

The words seemed to dry up in his throat when he actually looked at the picture on the screen, taking in the sight of the two women posing for the camera in front of a full-length mirror, presumably in Lyla's bedroom, each of them holding a large wine glass. He was used to seeing Lyla in all manner of bright or sparkly pretty dresses, knew she loved any excuse to get to play dress-up, even if it was just for drinks at the clubhouse. But this, and he knew that he knew fuck all about fashion, was a new look for her – a black dress with a short skirt that looked like it was made out of feathers and a top part that was maybe ninety percent sheer, impossibly high black stilettos covered in tiny silver spikes on her feet, and her make-up heavier than usual with bold, dark red lips. She looked every inch the wee fox he knew she was from persistently having to put nomads with dishonourable intentions in their place.

But it was his girl – his _former_ girl, he had to mentally and ruefully correct himself – that robbed him of speech, in some shimmery gold excuse for a dress and matching heels, her long hair straight and sleek, and her make-up light save for the smoky dark eyes. He'd seen her naked plenty of times, for fuck's sake, but that had been for just him. This, knowing she was out there in the world looking like an actual bloody goddess …

"Fuck me," Chibs managed, crossing himself weakly.

"You got a damn high opinion of yourself if that's the calibre of girl you're turning away, man," TO tutted.

"Did you know she had legs like that? Like, all the way up to …" Rat gestured vaguely to somewhere level with his neck.

"He should do, considering he had 'em wrapped round that pale Scottish ass enough times," Tig grinned, playfully smacking said ass and getting a clip round the ear for his trouble.

"Have you lot no work to be at?" Chibs finally demanded, wiping the stunned look off his face before absently pocketing the phone and continuing on his way, ignoring Bug's half-hearted protest.

"God dammit," the intelligence officer sighed. "If he jerks off over my fucking phone, president or no president, I'm gonna kill him."

* * *

"So … were you ever … you know?"

"What, a croweater?" Lyla asked, just about making herself heard over the pumping music in the lively club they'd ended up in, pausing to sip her lurid pink cocktail through a straw. "Nah, I didn't really have much to do with the club until I met Opie. I mean, I used to work for a member's old lady when she ran the old porn studio, but that was about it."

"Otto, right? And … Lorraine? No, Luann!"

"Two points. You know your Samcro history. And yet you still didn't run a mile."

"Maybe I should have," Eden shrugged, after a long thoughtful moment of stirring her own drink. "You and Chibs are pretty close …" But she cringed when she heard how that sounded, back-tracking immediately. "Shit, sorry. I know there's nothing like that going on now and it shouldn't matter about the past – I was just curious, but you don't have to say any-"

"Damn, girl, chill," the laidback blonde chuckled. "It's okay. I get why you'd want to know. And no, for the record, I've never hooked up with Chibs. Although, in the spirit of full disclosure … something did happen once, but it was a mistake. I was in such a bad place and he was just being so kind. He could have taken advantage and he didn't. I've never forgotten that."

"What happened?"

"I, uh … I got caught up with some guys when I was still doing porn. It was after Op and I needed the money. But they didn't tell me it was torture porn," Lyla said, her face darkening at the still painful memory.

"Oh my god, _Lyla_," Eden said, shocked at that. "Jesus, how is that even a thing?"

"Trust me, doll, you don't want to know some of the things that get guys off. So anyway, I won't go into the details, but they basically beat me, cut me up, forced me … Just really rough shit I'd never been into. My porn career was all fluff, real soft stuff, lot of girl-on-girl. I was so scared. I had no idea how far they'd go. But I managed to get out of there and the club took care of it. Never saw those guys again. Chibs was the one who patched me up. He was so sweet. Asked if I'd prefer if he got Gemma or one of the other girls, but actually … I just felt safe with him. I was a mess, all tears and blood and bruises – so, of course, I stupidly threw myself at him. I dunno what I was thinking. I don't think I was, I just wanted the comfort. I wanted Opie, but he wasn't there and Chibs was. Poor Chibs," she said, trying to force a smile. "He turned me down gently."

"Yeah," Eden sighed. "He's good at that."

Reaching out to squeeze her hand in sympathy, Lyla shook off reminiscing and drained her glass before encouraging Eden to do the same. "No moping tonight, honey – let's dance."

So they did. Well into the early hours, hemmed in by the crowd on the hot and sweaty dancefloor. Which was all well and good until the wandering hands of some cocky guy who'd clearly never been told no found their way under the short hem of Eden's dress as it rode up her bare thighs.

Twice she tried to deter him without making a scene. Third time around, fully realising through the fog of intoxication the exact path his fingers were trying to take, she punched him in the face.

That was when all hell broke loose.

* * *

"I'm calling Seth," Eden managed, fumbling with her phone and starting to really regret knocking back the cocktails. And prosecco. And tequila.

"Don't tell your brother, Eden!" Lyla scolded, grabbing it out of her hands. "He'll think I'm a bad influence …"

"So?" Eden demanded, her hazy green eyes suddenly wide at the thought of what that might mean. "_Lyla!_ Have you got the hots for my brother?"

"Why?" she shrugged innocently. "Would that bother you?"

"I'd be more worried about it bothering his wife."

Lyla's jaw dropped. "Jesus Christ, does every guy in this goddamn town have a secret wife? Ugh, I'm calling Chibs – oh look, you still have his number in your phone – I wonder why … Chibby! It is not your little lost love, but you know I love you too- Ow, she just hit me! That's the kinda violence that got us in this mess in the first place, Eden Moore … Chibby, please can you get on your white horse and come rescue us? We kinda maybe sort of got arrested … Don't shout at me! I'm hanging up, stop shouting! Bye!"

Eden tilted her head back against the wall with a groan.

"He's coming to get us," Lyla said brightly. "Hey, look on the bright side - now he'll get to see your dress."


	26. Chapter 26

**Twenty-Six**

"You could have just taken us back to mine," Lyla pouted, teetering on her heels as she and Eden followed a stern-looking Chibs into the clubhouse, both of them still definitely feeling the influence of the night's drinking.

"Decided it was probably safest to keep the pair o' you where I could keep an eye on you," he said dryly, over his shoulder. "Can't imagine why."

"Oh, please," she rolled her eyes. "Like none of you guys have ever gotten arrested."

"Not over something stupid."

Lyla just stopped and stared at him, until he realised what a stretch it was to try to make her believe that and conceded the point with a shrug.

"Aye, all right – but I expected better from you two," Chibs sighed, glancing between her and Eden as the latter made her way behind the bar. "Oi, can you not be helping yoursel' to more drinks when you're already shit-faced? Seriously, getting into drunken scraps in clubs? What are yous, sixteen?"

"Are you kidding me?" Eden interjected, even as she deliberately downed a shot of his favourite whiskey and poured herself another. "Did charges get pressed? No. Because it was self-defence. That asshole deserved it."

"Way I hear it she's got a broken nose …"

"She? What the hell are you talking about? Chibs, _he_ had his hands up Eden's dress – that's sexual assault!" Lyla exclaimed, outraged by any suggestion they might have been the ones in the wrong.

The biker's head snapped round sharply. "_What?!_"

"Exactly. You'd have cut his damn dick off if you'd been there."

"And shoved it up the motherfucker's arse!" Chibs confirmed hotly, thrown to clearly not have been told anything like the whole story by the cop who'd released the girls into his care with a smirk. "Jesus, I was led to believe it was just some catfight … Darlin', are you okay?"

Equally caught off-guard by the concern both in his voice and written all over his face as he turned his attention back to her, Eden managed a little nod and then simply raised her glass to throw back the whiskey she'd been sloppily swirling in it, wincing at the burn of it in her throat.

"She was amazing," Lyla enthused, leaning over the bar with an uncustomary lack of grace to snag herself a glass and thrust it out expectantly, letting Eden slosh a generous measure into it. "Nearly laid that prick _out_."

The biker's brown eyes seemed to bore into his former flame, unconvinced by her forced nonchalance. But, uncertain how to handle it under the circumstances, he decided all he could do was park it until the morning when everyone would hopefully have sobered up.

"Right, well, no more bloody booze, either o' you," he scolded, rescuing his whiskey from their clutches and putting it back behind the bar. "It's late so, uh, Lyla, you can take my room – Eden, Charlie's is free. Boy's gone to visit his ma."

Eden smiled wryly at that, swaying just a little on her heels. "You gonna at least tuck us in, Mr President?"

Chibs pretended he hadn't heard her.

* * *

"I know what you're doing, you know," came Lyla's almost sing-song teasing from the tiny bathroom attached to his room, where she was struggling out of her dress and into a spare Samcro t-shirt. "Not letting Eden stay in your room … Too much temptation, was it, hmm?"

Chibs sat down heavily on the edge of his bed and wiped a hand over his face, wondering when the hell babysitting drunken women had become part of his role as president.

"Oh, come on, admit it – she blows your mind in that dress," Lyla called, finally emerging to flop down beside him, sprawling out like a starfish on top of the covers. "Hell, she blows my mind and I only swing that way for the cameras! It's not too late, you know. Comfy as I am right now, I'll get up, go sleep in Charlie's room. I will do that for you, Chibs, 'cause I love you even when you're grumpy with me. No, no, listen - I'll go to Charlie's room and Eden can come here, snuggle up with you and …"

He rolled his eyes at the suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, but quickly shut her plan down.

"Appreciate the offer, darlin', but not a good idea. Listen, you stay here and I'm gonna go get you some water. Your wee head's gonna be banging in the morning."

Realising the truth of that, Lyla wrinkled her nose in displeasure and shifted to bury her face in the pillows as if that would block out the inevitable oncoming hangover. "At least go take Eden some ice for her hand," came the mumble. "Please? That scumbag shook her up more than she'll admit."

Chibs heaved a sigh. "Aye, all right. She really broke his nose, huh?"

"Yup," Lyla confirmed proudly. "I'd have gone for his balls personally, but the girl throws a mean punch."

He couldn't help the little smile that tugged at his lips, sharing in her pride – much as it troubled him that the little paramedic had found herself having to resort to such a move in the first place - before reaching to give her knee a friendly little pat and then heading for the door, pausing only to grab a shirt from over the back of a chair as an afterthought. "I'll be back wi' that water, pet."

"I won't wait up," Lyla called after him, with a knowing little giggle.

* * *

Nursing her right hand as she sat on Charlie's bed in a much smaller, much more cluttered room than the one Chibs had at his disposal – clothes strewn on the floor, the walls covered with posters of girls and bands and bikes and cars - Eden flexed her fingers experimentally, wincing just a little. Maybe she'd feel it a little more when the numbing effect of the alcohol wore off, but she knew enough to be pretty sure nothing was broken. Well, nothing save for the nose of the asshole who had tried touching her up.

It wasn't the first time some random guy had tried it on, either in a club or while she was working, but he had been one of the more persistent and the memory of his hand shoving roughly between her thighs – vivid even through her own otherwise drunken fog – still made her skin crawl.

Forcing herself unsteadily to her feet, she managed to peel her dress off in the dim light of the bedside lamp, tugging it over her head just as a knock came at the door.

"Only me," came that familiar Scottish brogue. "Just checking you're all right in there."

"You can come in," Eden called, shrugging when the biker walked in only to stop in his tracks at the sight of her in nothing but her panties. "What?" she smirked, staggering clumsily out of her heels as she dropped the dress on the floor and he turned his back in evident discomfort. "Not like you haven't seen it all before …"

Chibs cleared his throat awkwardly, ignoring that and holding out a flannel button-down without looking at her. "Here, brought you this to sleep in. Wasn't sure Charlie-Boy would have anything clean."

Even drunk as she was, it wasn't lost on Eden that the checked shirt was one of her favourite things to sleep in. The soft material, even freshly laundered, always seemed to hold just the faintest hint of something that invoked its owner. She'd slept in it in her own bed while he was off on a run once and it was like having his arms still wrapped around her. The thought of that comfort now misted over her eyes until she quickly blinked them clear again.

"Thanks," she managed softly, taking it and pulling it on, mumbling vague curses as the tiny buttons proved too much for her alcohol-clouded dexterity or lack thereof.

Guessing the problem, Chibs huffed a sigh and turned around. "C'mere," he muttered, tugging her closer and working on doing them up himself.

She swayed drunkenly, her hands automatically reaching for him to steady herself and, before he could process what was happening, she'd planted her mouth on his in a desperate kiss. His back thudded up against the door as she shoved him up against it, their tongues tangling passionately, everything they had both missed poured into that long, searching kiss. But when her hand cupped him through the rough denim of his jeans, reality came crashing back in.

"Eden, stop," Chibs managed, however reluctantly, trying to pull away from her as she clung to him. "_Stop_."

He grabbed her wrists while she laughed at him like it was a game and then it was his turn to slam her up against the door, pining her wandering hands above her head. But she only eyed him as if in challenge.

"Careful, Chibby," she warned, her words still slurring slightly. "I might like it rough …"

Even like this – drunk off her ass, his shirt barely buttoned, her hair rumpled and her smoky eye make-up smudged like some fucking hard partying model or something – he thought she was bloody beautiful and, despite every instinct telling him not to, with her lithe little body pressed between him and the door, he couldn't resist seeking out another deep kiss. And, arching into him, she was only too willing to oblige.

It would be so fucking easy to let it go further. To pull down those sinfully tiny panties and bury himself inside her, to throw her on the bed or fuck her right there up against the door until she came screaming his name.

But in the morning, they'd be back to square one. Only she'd hate herself and him and he couldn't bear that.

So Chibs forced himself to pull away, shaking his head when she tried to protest. "No. We can't, Eden. You know we can't."

"Nuh-uh," Eden immediately argued, her fingers curling into his t-shirt. "We're both grown-ups. You've done this with plenty of women. Just one night, if that's what you want. What's the big deal?"

Yeah, he had to concede he wasn't exactly presenting a compelling argument against that - stood there with a raging hard-on he couldn't seem to will away, even before she somehow managed to undo the buttons of that damn shirt again with much more efficiency than her previous efforts to do them up. It slipped slowly off her lightly tan shoulders and he swallowed hard.

"I know you want me," she whispered, leaning in to graze her lips against his, her bare breasts pressing against his chest.

God have mercy on his fucking soul.

"Please, Filip …"

But ultimately the slur in her speech and the glassy look in her eyes spoiled the effect and Chibs' jaw tightened, his simmering temper flash-igniting to see her in such a state. And, sure, he could acknowledge he had probably played a part in that, provided a reason for her to drown her sorrows, but that only made him feel worse.

He pushed her roughly down on the bed.

The look on her face could have been lust or anger, but instead of joining her, he pulled away again like he'd been burned.

"No!" he raged, slamming his hand down on top of the chest of drawers. "I said no and I fucking meant it - I ain't shagging the woman I love like some cheap _whore_. Get your drunk arse to bed, Eden. We're done here."

Her bottom lip wobbled at his harsh tone and her wide eyes welled with tears, but he forced himself to harden his heart and turn his back, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him. He could only imagine the thud that followed was one of her shoes hitting the wood.

He came face to face with Lyla, clearly having resorted to retrieving a glass of water herself and ended up overhearing at least some of what had gone down.

"Well," she said archly, sipping her water as she considered him. "At least you're doing a sterling job of helping her not be in love with you."

"Aye, and I'll probably fucking love her 'til me dying day," Chibs sighed, with more exasperation and frankness than he'd intended. "But at least if the two o' yous keep this kind o' shite up, that'll not be too much longer."


	27. Chapter 27

**Twenty-Seven**

Having promised he'd be back from his mom's in time to start cleaning the clubhouse as usual, Charlie strolled in bright and early with his rucksack over his shoulder, whistling softly. For once, the place wasn't looking too bad and his good spirits didn't have to take a knock. Aside from a few used glasses by the bar, it didn't seem like there was actually much to clear up, so a quick once-over would probably do the job. Although he had once had to fish used condoms out of the pockets of the pool table, so the jury was still out until he could carry out a closer inspection. But he could live in hope and, if he got really lucky, a couple of croweaters might be willing to help out - Nadia or, damn, maybe even Lucy with her perky ponytails and perky everything else …

His head full of such wonderfully distracting thoughts, the young prospect was through the door of his room and dropping his bag in the corner before he realised it was already occupied and he stopped in his tracks.

Smooth bare skin sprawled on his bed, chocolate and honey hair strewn across the pillows. Naked, save for a pair of panties. A teeny-tiny pair of panties clinging to the firm curve of a perfectly pert little ass. His eyes only widened as he drank in the unexpected sight.

"Uh …"

"Get the fuck out o' there," came the growl from behind him.

"But it's my room," Charlie managed, turning to find his president scowling blackly at him. "Who …? Holy shit, is that _Eden?_"

Chibs didn't answer.

"Holy shit," Charlie breathed, moving to turn back without engaging his brain, only to be unceremoniously trailed into the hallway by the scruff of his neck.

"Don't be disrespectful. Try coppin' another eyeful and my boot's gonna disrespect your arse," the Scotsman warned, shoving him in the direction of the bar. "Go on, get out o' here. Try making yersel' useful for once."

"But-"

"OUT!"

* * *

At the pitiful whimper from the bed, its occupant no doubt woken by the commotion going on in the doorway, Chibs folded his arms across his chest and forced himself to both sound stern and keep his eyes off that same ass that had no doubt captivated his young charge.

"Suffering, are we?"

"Oh my god, my head …"

He couldn't keep up the façade for long though, not even after only a few broken hours sleep on a battered clubhouse couch and not in the face of that pained little half-sob that prompted him to sit down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

"All right, easy now, pet," he soothed, keeping his voice low and reaching out to smooth his hand over the tangles of hair hiding her face. "Just you lie nice and quiet. I'll get you some water and a couple o' painkillers, sort ya right out."

Without thinking, Chibs pressed a gentle kiss to her no doubt aching head and, only then realising what he'd done, quickly left to return with the water and pills as promised.

"Sit up, love – atta girl," he coaxed. "Just wee sips …"

Once sure she'd got a grip on the glass, he moved to retrieve his balled-up shirt from the floor, realising she must have decided she wanted no such reminder of him after how things had been left between them hours earlier. But she sheepishly took it back without protest in exchange for the glass, suddenly self-conscious in her state of undress and pulling the soft material on, fumbling with the buttons. He let her manage herself this time, at least until one unsteady hand clutched her stomach and the other flew to her mouth in alarm.

"Think I'm gonna be sick!" she blurted out, stumbling to her feet and bolting for the bathroom.

That left Chibs, who had earlier found Lyla in a fairly similar state, to set the glass on the nightstand and bury his face in his hands. "Fucking marvellous," he sighed, before psyching himself up to follow her, only to end up trying to hold her hair back with one hand and rubbing her back with the other while she threw up.

"Why are you being so good to me?" Eden managed, once she'd stopped retching into the toilet bowl. "I'm a nightmare. Last night …"

"You were drunk," Chibs corrected. "And we've all been there. Some o' us more than others."

"You don't have to do this," she whispered, managing to get to her feet shakily with his help, a strong arm staying banded around her waist to make sure she didn't fall while she rinsed her mouth out at the small sink and grimaced when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "Oh god, I'm such a mess."

"Nothing a good hot shower wouldn't cure. Wanna go try those pills first now you might have a chance o' keeping them down?"

She met his gaze in the mirror, pale-faced and unusually dark around eyes that had lost their sparkle. "Can you please just shoot me?"

The biker managed a smile at that from over her shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before he could think the better of it. "Never."

* * *

"I should be going …"

Maybe it was just the alcohol wearing off, but Eden couldn't seem to help the waves of sheer sadness alternating with the nausea. She appreciated how kind Chibs had been in looking after her, even cleaning up the grazes on her bruised knuckles, but it only seemed to make it harder to be around him, knowing they were no longer everything they had once been. The urge to melt into his arms, to lay her aching head on his chest and let him just keep taking care of her, was almost overwhelming. But as far as she was concerned, she'd embarrassed herself more than enough the night before.

"No offence, darlin', but you don't look well enough to be going anywhere just yet," he said, guiding her back into Charlie's vacant room and, once she swallowed a couple of painkillers with a few more sips of water, coaxing her to curl up under the covers of the prospect's bed. "How ya feeling?"

"Pretty rough," she admitted, weakly throwing an arm over her eyes. "I don't normally get hangovers, not this bad anyway. I should call Seth – I mean, he knew I was meant to be staying with Lyla, but he'll probably be wondering where I am by now."

"Hey, don't you be worrying about anything," Chibs said, in that same low, comforting tone that warmed her heart and made her stomach flutter. "I gotta go see that brother o' yours anyway, so I can let him know you're in one piece. You just get some more rest, give those pills a chance to kick in."

"You're going to see Seth? Why?"

He simply shrugged in response. "Dunno actually. He was pretty cagey when he called. Maybe just getting round to wanting a wee word in me ear about upsetting his sister," he added, with a wry smile.

Eden forced a little smile of her own at that. "Breaking up with me to protect me? Trust me, Seth'll be in your corner on that, not mine."

"You do understand my reason then?" Chibs asked suddenly, his dark eyes earnest and his fingers brushing over hers on top of the covers in the long pause that followed. "I never wanted to hurt you, darlin'."

"I get it," she admitted softly. "Doesn't mean I agree with it. I … I miss you. Sorry, I know you don't want-"

"Oi, hush now," he said gently, taking her uninjured hand fully in his and giving it a little squeeze. "Get some rest and I'll be back in a bit. Do you want me to tell Charlie to bring you some tea and toast?"

"Can you please not mention food?" she said, blanching at the thought and making him chuckle lightly as he got up to leave, but not before he had turned serious again as he leaned down to kiss her forehead tenderly.

"Us not being together doesn't mean I ever stopped caring about you, Eden. Sleep, pet. Feel better."

He was gone before she could say a word.

* * *

"Just for the record, Eden and Lyla are both safe and sound at the clubhouse – hungover as all hell, but safe," Chibs told the big former boxer as he led the way out to the back of his gym and indicated for the biker to take a seat – which he did, perching on top of the picnic table and fishing his smokes and a lighter out of a pocket.

"Must have been a wild one," Seth mused, pacing the small enclosed yard. "As long as they had a good time."

Chibs thought the better of telling him too much, feeling like no good could come of the other man knowing some prick had tried touching up his baby sister. Instead, he lit a cigarette and took a long drag, tilting his head back to feel the sun on his face as he blew out a long stream of smoke. "So what did you want to see me about, mate? Eden?"

"It ain't about Eden. Not directly anyway," her brother sighed. "You talked to her much lately?"

"Not really. Not about anything … out o' the ordinary, I guess."

"She tell you about her last shout?"

Chibs frowned at that, casting his mind back to try to recall if anything had come up. "I don't think so. Why? Something happen? Something I should know about?"

"Her and that partner of hers, Desi, got called to an overdose the other day. Turned out she knew the kid. Through this place. Joel DeLuca. I'd been training him for a while, except he started skipping out on sessions. I can't have that – he had a real shot at making something of himself, but not if he ain't all in."

"He make it?"

Seth shook his head sadly. "Eden don't know yet, or I don't think so anyway. They got him to hospital, but he was in a bad way. Died late last night. Massive heart attack. Twenty-three."

"Fuck," Chibs sighed, considering both the waste of life and the impact the news would have on the young woman he had left back at the clubhouse. "Did you know he had a drug problem?"

"Not a clue. I mean, it's a boxing gym and I ain't stupid – I know what it's like, young guys turning to steroids to try to give themselves an edge, shit like that. I warn them all, that ain't my style and I ain't gonna let it fly."

"That what this was? Steroids?"

Seth shook his head. "No, or at least not what caused the overdose. That was fentanyl - hardcore prescription pain med. And crystal meth."

"Shite. That fucking muck in this town again …"

"So there have been problems before?"

"On and off. Cooking more than using though," the biker said, taking another long drag of his cigarette. "Sons always made it clear selling here was … a red line."

"Looks like someone ain't got the message."

"We have had other things on our plate lately," Chibs admitted. "May have taken our eye off that particular ball, so to speak. Listen, not that I ain't open to being a friendly ear, but why are you coming to me wi' this?"

"This is your turf and, like you said, the Sons have red lines," Seth shrugged. "I mean, I'll talk to the cops too if it helps keep this shit outta my gym and away from my fighters. I just thought, in the long run, you might be more … effective."

"There was a time you'd have been right," Chibs said, deciding to level with the guy. "Not so long ago, Sons _were_ the law in Charming. But a lot's changed since then. And too many people know, or at least think they know, the whole fucking story o' how the club all but imploded. People used to think we were fucking untouchable. Now half the club's dead and gone, torn apart from the inside out. We ain't got the same clout."

The former boxer considered that for a long moment.

"Then maybe you need to get back to how things were – before the wrong turns," he said. "Joel … He wasn't some white trash piece of shit, wasn't a kid on the wrong side of the tracks. He had a good family, an education, could have had a good life. Maybe Charming needs the Sons more than it realises."

Chibs looked at him bemused, stubbing the butt of his cigarette out on the sole of his boot before pitching it.

"You do realise you, o' all fucking people, are basically telling me to get my club to step up and harden the fuck up?" he said finally.

Seth shrugged. "Not like you're still with my sister. And if you were together – and for the record, I ain't exactly convinced by this break-up – maybe I'd rather if she did have to get caught up with some biker, he was one people thought was, and I quote, _fucking untouchable_."

The biker in question had to admit he could see the logic in that. But a frown crossed his face as he considered what the other man had to say.

"What d'ya mean you _ain't convinced_?"

"You literally just told me Eden spent the night at the clubhouse. Still tucked up in your bed, is she?" Seth said dryly, wholly unprepared for the shake of the head he got in return.

"Nope. Guess again."

"What? Then who the fuck's bed is she in? Jesus, do I even want to know?"

"Oh, I'll tell the lass her big brother thinks she's shagging her way through half the Sons, will I? Chill out, will ya? I gave Lyla my room, so Eden slept in Charlie's while-"

"_Charlie's?_" Seth echoed, before he simply cracked up, half in relief and half in amusement. "Oh, man …"

"Christ almighty," Chibs muttered, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Does _everyone_ know this wee shite's all spun round over my girl?"

"Literally everyone," Seth nodded, a grin on his lips at the casual slip of the tongue the biker didn't even seem to have registered.

"God gi' me strength," he sighed, getting up from his perch on top of the table and heading for the door. "Listen, leave this meth problem wi' me. I'll do some digging."

"Keep me in the loop," Seth called after him. "Oh, and Chibs? _Your_ girl, huh?"

"Fuck you," Chibs shouted back over his shoulder, swapping a wave for a one-fingered salute.


	28. Chapter 28

**Twenty-Eight**

"Don't fucking snap at me! Why are you snapping at me? If I wanted to be fucking snapped at, I could go home to my husband!"

"Jesus, woman, do you ever stop running that big mouth?"

He immediately realised he'd only gone and thrown gasoline on the proverbial fire when she turned on him, blue eyes blazing, and he actually took a step back out of the reach of those long, painted talons of hers.

"Don't seem to recall any complaints about my mouth when you had your dick in it," she seethed. "Remind me why the hell I ever thought this was a good idea?"

"Been asking myself the exact same thing," he shot back. "Bad enough knowing Johnny would straight up murder both of us, without having to listen to you bitching at me any chance you get! You were the one who wanted to _teach the Sons some manners_, or whatever the fuck your point was. Why you getting all pissy with me for doing what you damn well wanted?"

For once, she didn't actually seem to have an answer for that and he used the more or less welcome respite of her sulky silence to haul himself up from the couch and stomp over to the refrigerator to grab a beer. But no sooner had he sank back down against the cushions than he became aware of her glare and tut of disapproval.

"What now, for fuck's sake?" Mackenzie Rockwell demanded, throwing his hands up in something that could have been anger or surrender. "Stella, _what_? Can't a man have a beer in his own damn house without you tutting? Don't you think I need a damn beer with all this hanging over my head?"

"Oh, and that's my fault, is it?"

"_Yes!_" he all but yelled, incredulous that she couldn't see it. After all, it had been her bright idea to stir up a little trouble. Shake the branch that was the Sons of Anarchy, so to speak. See what fell out. Next thing he knew, he was swinging a baseball bat at a car. That was the power of Stella Quincy.

Not that he could tell her old man that, all things considered.

So when things hadn't played out exactly how they'd wanted and she'd gone crying home to Johnny with half-truths twisted into some tale of disrespect, the aggrieved War Boys president had ordered his sergeant to deal with it. Send a proper message. Like they didn't have enough to think about trying to keep the law off the scent of a flourishing little meth empire. Easy money, or so Johnny had said. Fuck that. He wasn't the one losing sleep trying to keep so many plates spinning.

But it was all snowballing again nonetheless. Escalating out of control. And then he was leading an attack in the dead of night, shooting up Sam's Yard and making a hasty exit. Left to wait for the Sons' to make the next move. For retaliation.

The waiting was the worst part.

But he'd already known that, hadn't he? Because he'd spent fucking months waiting for Johnny to catch on to the fact his sergeant had been screwing his wife. Waiting for it all to blow up in their faces. And when it did …

Boom.

* * *

"You sure you're gonna be well enough for this weekend?"

"What's this weekend?" Eden managed, looking up from where she'd been curled up on the couch since getting home from work exhausted, picking half-heartedly at the gently steaming bowl of homemade curry Seth had set down in front of her.

"Uh, another fight night? The fundraiser I've only been talking about all week?"

"For Joel's family," Eden sighed, realisation dawning on her. "Of course. Sorry, it just … slipped my mind. Of course, I'll be there. I already checked it doesn't clash with work and it's all good. You got yourself a medic."

"You still feeling off though?" her brother asked in concern, lifting her sock-covered feet so he could sit down before letting them drop back down into his lap. "You've hardly eaten anything - I thought you loved my curry. Although if your stomach's upset, I could heat you up some soup? Something lighter, less spicy …"

"The curry's great, honest. And I don't feel as bad, I just don't seem to have much of an appetite. Sorry."

"You look tired …"

"Women don't want to hear that, Seth," she said wryly, poking him with her toe.

"You push yourself too hard, kid. If this fundraiser's too much on top of your actual job, just say. I can find someone else. Don't want you burning out on me."

"No, I want to do it," Eden insisted. "I want to help. For Joel. I'll be fine. How's everything else looking? Do you need me to help with anything?"

"Nah, we're gold – it's all coming together. Decent line-up. Lot of people wanted to do something and with his background in boxing, this makes sense."

"Got any of the Sons roped in?" she asked, with an attempt at casualness than didn't quite hit the mark.

"Couple of them," Seth nodded, shooting her a little side-long look. "Got any in particular in mind?"

"Just wondered if Charlie was finally getting a crack in the ring …"

"Sure you did," Seth snorted. "And yeah, actually, he is. And no, Chibs is not on the fight card. Although I dunno what you were hoping for, so does that mean relief or disappointment?"

"Shut up," she muttered, shoving him with her foot.

* * *

"Right, next order o' business," Chibs said, from his rightful place at the head of the table, with Tig on his left, Happy on his right and the rest of the Sons in their usual spots. Usual was all a matter of perspective though. Part of him still found it jarring to be sat in that seat, to look around and not see the faces of brothers he had loved like blood for so long. Jax, Opie, Bobby …

He shook those thoughts off as he always did, before they could really take hold. Before the whole damn roll call of ghosts could spool out in front of him yet again.

"We all know Charming ain't ever been quite as sedate as some people would like to think, that it's got a dark underbelly just like anywhere else," the president started, weighing the gavel in his hands as he spoke. "Well, it looks like that dark underbelly's creeping through the cracks in the surface again. Bug?"

The intelligence officer nodded in acknowledgement, leaning forward to update the club as a whole on what he'd been working on.

"Yeah, so the boss had me looking into suggestions crystal meth's becoming a problem in town and the short answer is yeah," he said. "I mean, it don't look like we're talking Heisenberg levels here, but someone's definitely got a couple of fingers in that particular pie. Turns out there's been a spike in reports to police around possession and supplying, and a spike in both home invasions and raids on businesses where there's been at least a suspected drug connection – either those responsible have been suspected of looking to fund their next fix, or to have been off their fucking heads. Opportunistic shit. Chaotic. Not to be underestimated though. Desperation makes people dangerous."

"Some little bastard turned over Vee's place over this shit," Tig reminded them all, a hard glint in his blue eyes. "We ain't having it. Not in our town."

They all mumbled their agreement and Chibs' jaw tightened just a little, fervently wishing they'd held tight to that moral code of sorts when it had really mattered. Him included. Him especially. He should have tried harder to steer Jax right. Before they'd gotten sucked into a world of cartels and fucking rocket launchers and muling coke. But as long as it stayed out of Charming, right?

Only Charming had gotten just as bloody as anywhere else in the end.

But Bug was looking at him for the nod to continue, so he had to swallow that all down, along with his grief for those it had cost them and everything else he'd had to keep bottled up inside.

"I, uh, also tried digging around the medical side of things," Bug pushed on. "Real upward trajectory on overdoses, injuries where drug intoxication was a major contributing factor. So, all in all, yeah … Charming's got itself a nasty little drug problem."

"And we know just how nasty," Chibs said, his face grim. "A wee lad's dead. Twenty-three. One o' the Scrapyard's boxers. Good kid, by all accounts. So Tig's right. We ain't having it. Not on our turf. Family means something to this club. We ain't having good people burying kids before their time. We ain't having good people robbed, terrorised. We're shutting this shite down. All in favour?"

The ayes were unanimous.

* * *

Keen as Chibs was to have Samcro shut down Charming's meth problem, he wasn't about to underestimate those behind it. If their suspicions were right and this new generation of the War Boys were involved, it wasn't that they were particularly threatening in and of themselves – especially not compared to the shit the Sons had been forced to deal with in recent years. But they were volatile, disorganised, unpredictable.

That made them dangerous.

He was damn sure he hadn't survived this long and against such heavily stacked odds to be taken out by some fucking two-bit thug trying to make a name for himself and he wasn't going to allow that fate to befall any of his men either. They'd tread carefully. Only make a move when they were sure of their target.

It wasn't like they didn't have plenty of other things to keep them occupied in the meantime, manning the garage and their fledgling security business, checking in on Red Woody, supporting the Scrapyard's latest fight night. The latter was a popular move though. Sons were always keen for any excuse for a good old-fashioned fight and an excuse for a party and, once again, out-of-town members were descending on them for the occasion.

Leaning on the ropes of the main boxing ring at Seth's gym, Chibs watched on as Charlie sparred with Rogue River's sergeant, both of them focusing on agility rather than trying to hurt each other, given that both were signed up to the fight card.

"Told you the kid would come good," Seth said, appearing at the Samcro president's side. "Charlie's looking sharp, man."

"Helps that Knox don't slap him about like Tig," Chibs said wryly, but he acknowledged the truth in the statement too. "Credit where it's due – the lad's been working hard. Might actually be in with a chance."

"More than a chance, I'd say," Seth shrugged. "I'd put decent money on him. Tough opponent, solid, good stamina. But Charlie's got a determined streak, he's quick on his feet and he's starting to get some real power behind those punches. And Knox is … Knox. Dude don't know when to quit and he could fell fucking trees with those fists. Looking like a good night for Samcro."

The two men turned their attention back to the ring just in time to see Charlie catch the older, bigger man out with a light jab to the kidneys that would have really done some damage had they been putting any weight behind their punches. But Knox, knowing the young man needed his confidence boosting as much as anything they could do in terms of training, hammed it up, doubling over with a wounded "oof" before staggering back to raise his opponent's gloved fist in victory.

"And the crowd goes wild for the hometown hero!" he declared, his voice booming across the gym. "Charlie 'Hotshot' Hobart! Oh, see? The girls are gonna love ya, Charlie-Boy. Hey, gorgeous, you gonna save some of that love for a poor lonely visitor?"

Clapping her support for Charlie as she watched from outside the ropes on the far side of the ring, Eden just grinned up at the dark-haired Rogue River sergeant as he threw her a wink, unaware of the little frown knitting Chibs' brows at the flirtatious interaction.

"Ain't like she's spoken for …" came Seth's dry reminder by his ear. "Right?"

"Right," Chibs muttered.

* * *

Fight night rolled around quickly and once again the Scrapyard was packed out with the supporters. The death of Joel DeLuca had touched a nerve in the town, especially with his family being well-established in the community, running a popular little bar and restaurant that had been passed down from Joel's grandparents. It had been closed ever since, his parents too grief-stricken to face opening up, and the money raised would go towards funeral costs and helping them get by until they could somehow piece what was left of their shattered world back together again.

"Be almost worth getting beat bloody …" Knox mused, leaning back against the wall as he sat on a bench in the room allocated to the next fighters up while Chibs strapped his hands.

"What?" the Scotsman said, having zoned out of the conversation to focus on the job in hand.

Knox simply nodded in the direction he was staring. "For some tender loving care - heavy on the loving, easy on the care. Hey, I heard you hit that and quit it, man. Gotta say, I ain't sure if you're my goddamn hero or just a fucking idiot. No offence."

Chibs glanced around, catching sight of Eden checking over another fighter who'd picked up a small cut while practicing just before his fight and his jaw tightened as he went back to ensuring his brother's fists were securely wrapped before jamming on his gloves and starting to lace them.

"So, she's fair game now, right? I mean, I respect the hell outta Seth and I do still owe him for what went down in San Quentin, so I ain't saying I'd definitely make a move ... But damn, the things I could do to that hot little body-"

"Knox?"

"Yeah, buddy?"

"I love you, brother, but if you even think about touching her, I'll take these gloves back off and snap every one o' yer motherfucking fingers," Chibs said, his voice low and a tight smile on his scarred face. "Clear?"

"Fucking crystal," Knox grinned, his cheery reaction drawing only confusion. "Hey, if I get my bell rung in this fucking fight, tell Lyla she was right for me, will ya?"

"What? Right about what?"

Knox smirked, pretending to catch Chibs with a glove to the side of the head, just giving him a gentle tap. "Quit over-thinking it, Pres," he shrugged, rolling out his shoulder muscles as he stood to get ready to make his way to the ring. "Step the fuck up. Before someone else does."

"Knox?"

"All yours, beautiful," he declared, raising a challenging eyebrow in Chibs' direction before flashing a killer smile at Eden as she called to get him ready to head out. "Where d'ya want me?"

Chibs' scowl only deepened.


	29. Chapter 29

**Twenty-Nine**

"Deep breaths, you got this."

Sat on the bench waiting for his hands to be strapped, Charlie had the hood of his zip-up Samcro sweatshirt up and his head down, trying to find his focus. But he just looked tense and, noticing that, Eden moved to sit beside him, gently bumping his shoulder with hers.

"Hey, you hear me?" she tried. "You got this, Charlie. Chill."

"What if I mess up?"

"You won't …"

"You don't know that."

"I know you're ready. I know Seth wouldn't let you in that ring if you weren't. And Chibs wouldn't either," she told him firmly. "I know you're gonna go out there and you're gonna do your best. That's all anyone can ask."

"What if I lose?"

"Then you'll just have come up against a better fighter and that's how it goes sometimes," Eden shrugged. "But you have to put that out of your head, Charlie. You have to go out there and believe in yourself. Come on, what's the worst that could happen?"

"I humiliate myself in front of the club, in front of Chibs, Seth, my mom, you, all those people …" he suggested, wiping a shaky hand over his face. "My mom's out there, Eden. She's never seen me fight before. I mean, I know she's not real keen on me boxing, or prospecting for that matter. But … I just want her to be proud of me, you know?"

"Oh, honey, she'll be proud of you no matter what."

"It's just been so tough for her since my dad left," the young man said, his voice low and his eyes cast towards the ground. "I think I remind her of him. And he was a screw-up."

"You're not your dad, okay? And you are _not_ a screw-up," Eden insisted, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and giving him a quick squeeze. "Anyone tries to tell you that, you send them to me. I'll set them straight."

Her jokey attempt at looking fierce managed to raise a smile and Charlie – touched by the medic's genuine desire to help - took a deep breath, still trying to psych himself up for the fight that lay ahead, but feeling a little better after her encouragement.

"Thanks, Eden," he said, before glancing at her almost shyly. "Chibs is insane letting you go," he blurted out, his eyes widening in alarm as soon as the words were out of his mouth and he realised the line he had crossed. "Shit, please don't tell him I said that!"

"Charlie, it's okay," she tried to reassure him, smiling softly at his stumbling efforts to explain.

"I didn't mean … I just … He was lucky is all, having you as his old lady. I dunno why he'd give that up. Having someone smart and _nice_ and pretty, someone that's just his. I've never had that – I'm mean, I'm not … I've … you know … The clubhouse, girls are always around, but …"

His cheeks were flame-red by now and Eden laughed lightly as she leaned in to plant a tiny kiss on his cheek. "You're sweet," she told him, patting his arm. "And some day you're going to find the perfect girl, Charlie Hobart, and you're going to make her so happy."

At her wistful little sigh, he turned to look at her again, his embarrassment cooled a little by concern for the woman who had always been so kind to him. "Chibs hurt you, pushing you away like he did," he said, hesitant in his effort not to put his foot in his mouth again. "I still don't get it."

She shrugged, trying to make light of it despite the heaviness in her heart. "He thinks he's doing the right thing, protecting me."

"How's leaving you protecting you?" Charlie scoffed, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

Eden considered that for a moment. "Okay, say you knew this opponent of yours was no good at taking body shots – what would you do when you got out in the ring?"

"Go for the body," the young man said immediately, the "duh" going unspoken, but still seeming to hang in the air between them.

"So you'd target his weakness," Eden nodded. "Just like if the club had enemies and they knew the big, bad leader of the Sons didn't worry about himself, but was in a relationship with someone he wanted to keep safe. That's what Chibs is scared of – someone using me to get to him."

Charlie didn't look convinced. "But … he still loves you," he frowned. "Everyone knows he does."

"I guess he's just trying to be selfless," Eden tried, not really following what he was getting at.

"But that's stupid. 'Cause now if the club's got enemies who want to get to him, they can still go after you, there's just less chance of Chibs actually being there to stop them – it's not like he wouldn't care just because you weren't officially his old lady! Before, at least you got to be together. Now, you're both just miserable and the exact thing he wants to avoid could still happen …"

The medic stared at him, thrown by his stark assessment. "I … I hadn't thought of it like that," she admitted finally, taking a deep breath. "Well, shit, Charlie. Maybe I need to-"

"Charlie-Boy!"

Interrupted by the strident yell, Charlie bounced to his feet, trying to wipe the guilty look of his face, not wanting to get caught out sticking his nose in his president's business.

"Get yer arse over here, lad, so we can get these gloves on," Chibs shouted impatiently.

"Go on," Eden urged, giving him a little push in the right direction. "And, Charlie? Good luck out there."

* * *

Seven rounds in and Charlie was sweating profusely, his body aching from the strength of the blows he hadn't been able to block, but adrenaline was carrying him though and his admittedly formidable opponent was showing signs of struggling too.

The other fighter had the advantage of a longer reach, a bit more bulk and more experience, but he wasn't as quick on his feet and the young Samcro prospect had landed plenty of shots of his own. One particularly deft jab to the head sent his opponent reeling into the ropes and Charlie could hear – through the sound of his own heart hammering in his chest and the thud of gloves on skin – Chibs and the rest of the club roar in approval.

That alone boosted him and he pressed on, working the kidneys with a quick flurry of punches that drew grunts of pain, just before the bell signalled the end of the round and the referee pulled them apart, sending them back to their respective corners.

One of the Red Woody girls strutted across the ring in sky-high heels, holding up a board announcing the seventh round and causing the male-dominated crowd to whoop and holler their approval at her tiny leather shorts and the skimpy bra top she was almost spilling out of.

Elbowing her way as close to the front of the packed crowd as she could, his mom was cheering loudly and waving, telling anyone who would listen that was her son in the ring.

And leaning on the apron of the ring, her bag beside her, Eden beamed up at him, urging him on.

"Charlie? Charlie! Focus, lad, we're a long way from home yet," Chibs barked, lightly slapping his cheek to get him to pay attention, even as everything seeming to go on around him in slow motion bombarded his senses. "Now, remember what I told you – put some fucking power behind those fists o' yours, unless you want this thing going the distance. You good? Water? Right, get in there. Gi' him fucking hell, me boyo!"

Breathing heavily, Charlie rose from his corner stool and stormed back into the centre of the ring, going straight back to work as soon as the eighth round started. And it was all going his way, but right on the bell, he took a right hook that seemed to rattle his brain in his skull and sent up a gasp from the crowd.

He was still seeing stars when he somehow made it back to Chibs and was pushed down on the stool.

"Stay wi' me, lad. Focus," the Scotsman ordered him, tipping his water bottle over his head in a bid to revive him. "Eyes on me. Charlie, look at me. You cannot fucking let him do that! You hear me? Yer ma's watching – you think she wants to see that shite? No. So do something about it. Calm the fuck down. Keep your feet moving. Don't gi' him room to come at you like that. Lemme see that face … No cuts. Keep it that way. Go!"

He lurched back into battle, only to be caught off-guard again. This time, he could feel his lip split open and he spat blood onto the canvas, his anxiety spiking at the groans and curses from his corner.

"Come on, Charlie – you got this!"

That was Eden, leaning as close into the ring as she could without getting told off and moved back. As a medic, she was allowed closer than the crowd, watching from right at ringside and on the same side as his corner team of Chibs, TO and, fresh from winning his own earlier fight, Knox.

Seth appeared beside her and Charlie's heart sank, straining to hear over the crowd even as he tried to focus on evading his opponent's apparent resurgence.

"You keeping an eye on that?"

"Of course," Eden confirmed, her gaze never leaving the action in the ring. "It's just his lip, Seth. He's good."

Steeling himself, Charlie ducked an incoming fist and then threw a hard jab, catching his target right in the kidneys again, enough to make him visibly wince and present an opening. He took it, throwing everything he had at him, despite realising the danger he was in with three rounds still to go. Unless one of them got the KO. His tank was running low.

"Into the tenth, Charlie-Boy," Chibs told him, when he collapsed down on his stool at the bell. "That fucker's got stamina … If it goes the distance, you might have him on points, but only if he can't take any o' the remaining rounds and that's a big if."

Leaning back against the ropes, exhausted, Charlie felt strong hands grab his battered face and then his president's brown eyes were glaring at him, their foreheads touching.

"If you want this, kid … Take him out by the fucking roots," Chibs growled. "You hear me, son? You can do this. Take. Him. Out."

"Atta boy, Charlie!" Eden called, when he staggered to his feet again. "Hold on!"

"Charlie, be careful!"

That was his mom. His mom who'd been left to raise him alone, to deal with the fall-out of his dad's cowardice. Of his betrayal. He hadn't even had the balls to own what he'd done, having landed Opie in prison and away from his family for years, only to try to twist his way out of the blame at every turn. He'd even lied about blacking out his club ink.

His mom had been expected to clean up that mess too – finding him dumped outside the hospital, burned and scarred beyond belief.

He knew when anyone heard the Hobart name, that was what they thought of. The waster who got himself kicked out of Samcro and exiled from Charming. There had probably been whispers in the crowd tonight. His mom shouldn't have to hear that. She didn't deserve to be tied to that for the rest of her life.

He wanted to give her something to be proud of again.

Gritting his teeth, Charlie waded back into the fight, fists flying relentlessly, pushing his opponent back against the ropes, putting him under pressure. They got locked up though, clinging to each other punch drunk, and the referee made them both back up. They were straight back at it though, ducking and weaving, jabbing. Both now desperate to make this stop before their legs gave out.

Then, an opening.

The chance was seized and the crowd seemed to know what was coming, surging forward to try to get a better view, baying for blood. The upper cut connected and the delay seemed to last forever before the downed fighter's crumpled body hit the mat.

The place erupted.

* * *

"Charlie, you little beauty!" Eden shrieked in delight, forgetting her official role for once and jumping up on the apron to duck between the ropes.

His team, and the Sons who had been watching in the crowd, still got to him first though – Chibs engulfing the stunned young man in a crushing, back-slapping hug before he and Knox hoisted him onto their shoulders.

"S-O-A, S-O-A!"

The chant caught on quick and soon it sounded like the whole place was shouting it, making Eden laugh at the bikers' collective delight and enthusiasm for their young brother's not entirely expected success. She shouldered her way through them just enough to pat his foot as he was bounced aloft, still looking dazed by what had happened.

"Proud of you, kiddo," she yelled up at him. "I knew you had it in you."

Then, using her vantage point to scan the still cheering crowd, she spotted the person she was looking for and slipped out of the ring.

"April? You're Charlie's mom, right?" she had to practically shout at the older woman to make herself heard. "Come with me … Hey, move it. Medic coming through. 'Scuse me, sorry …"

Having shouldered a path back through the crowd, Eden climbed back up on the edge of the ring and then held out a hand to help the woman following, stepping on the bottom ropes to create enough space for her to climb through.

"Mom!" Charlie managed, finally being allowed to drop back down to the mat, only to be wrapped in a warm hug. "Mom, I did it – I actually won!"

"I know, baby, and I'm so proud of you," April managed, through tears, pulling back to inspect the young man who had once been her little boy, but now towered over her. "Oh, Charlie, your poor face … Your lip!"

"Don't worry," Eden smiled. "Nothing I can't fix, once we tear him away from the celebrations."

"Are you staying for the after-party, mom?"

April laughed at the torn look on his face, knowing he half wanted to keep sharing his big moment with her, but also had to consider what exactly she might see.

"You don't need your old mom cramping your style," she said, hugging him again. "You have fun. Take care of yourself and call me tomorrow, okay? I love you, baby."

"I love you, mom," he beamed, despite how it tugged at his stinging split lip, conscious of Chibs joining him again and slinging an arm around his neck.

"Now the fun really starts, eh, lad?" the Scotsman declared. "You know you're welcome to stay, April."

"That's okay," she said, a tight little smile on her lips. The club was still difficult for her to navigate, all things considered. Probably always would be. "I'm gonna head on home. Look after my boy, Filip."

The president, recognising the position she was in, simply nodded and watched as she blew her son a kiss and then turned to leave. Turning his attention back to Charlie, Chibs tightened the arm he had around him and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Now," he grinned. "Let's go see about finding you a wee prize …"

* * *

Those mixed emotions filled April Hobart's head and heart the whole way home.

She had been part of the club herself for a long time, a Son's old lady. She knew the score. It was a risky life at best, never knowing where the next threat would come from – prison or a bullet. She didn't know if she wanted that for her boy.

If Kyle hadn't fucked his life up so spectacularly, it probably wouldn't even have been an issue. One way or another. If Charlie had wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, then he would have, just like Jax and Opie. But actually, he had shown no signs of wanting to patch in, being far more invested in school and his music. And that would have been okay too. Sure, Kyle would probably have been disappointed, but as long as their kid was happy, that was all that mattered.

Then he'd gone and crossed his own brothers, put himself in their sights. She couldn't even blame them for their response. Not really. She knew how hard life had been for Donna and the Winston kids without Opie. That had been Kyle's fault. He had brought his punishment on himself, casting a shadow over all of them.

Some people might have thought it would send them running. That she would flee town, taking Charlie with her. But she had nowhere else to go, it was that simple. She had to live with the legacy of Kyle's shame, while he was the one who got to run. Albeit under the threat of death if he broke his exile again.

And she wasn't going with him. No, she'd turned a blind eye to too much for too long. Gambling, drugs, girls ... She'd heard the stories and they weren't all just from his time on runs. No, they were finally done.

Charlie could have gone either way. She'd never have let him go with Kyle while she had breath in her body, but thankfully he hadn't pushed for that, seeming to understand in his quiet way that his father had been the one in the wrong. While he might miss him, he didn't blame April for keeping them apart, as she had half feared he might. He had blamed the club though. But only at first.

And then somehow his attachment to Samcro only grew deeper.

She knew on some level he just wanted to prove a point. To show that he wasn't like his dad. But it didn't make it any easier and she still didn't know if she was grateful or if she hated Chibs for giving him a chance.

She was a mom after all. She just wanted her boy, her baby, to be safe and happy.

At least for now he seemed to be both.

Retrieving her purse from the passenger seat, April climbed out of her old wreck of a car and headed for the front door of the little house that seemed so quiet when Charlie wasn't there. She started to ease the key into the lock, mindful of its tendency to stick, only for the door to swing open under the weight of her touch.

She would have a moment later to rue how foolish she had been to go ahead and step inside, calling out a "hello" instead of getting back in the car and calling the cops. But only a moment.

Because the two tweakers desperately using the cover of nightfall to raid houses in the area in a chaotic hunt for drugs or cash would act first and think much, much later. And their desperate attempt to make a break for it would only draw a piercing, terrified scream from the woman they hazily decided they had to silence.

The struggle, in the middle of the dark kitchen, was brief.

April fought in that reckless way fuelled by fear and adrenaline, her fingers clawing at shadowy faces – right up until one of them snatched up her iron by chance and smashed it down on her head.

Once, twice.

She didn't fight after that.


	30. Chapter 30

**Thirty**

For a split second, his hungover, sleep-addled brain registered the warmth of a body next to him – bare skin pressed against his, one smooth leg hooked over his thigh - as a good thing. Order seemed to have been restored to his world by the presence of his girl back where she belonged, in his bed and in his arms. But cracking open an eye only caused him to wipe a hand over his face with a groan when realisation dawned.

The sight of a blonde head pillowed on his chest actually made his heart sink, before the pangs of guilt and regret were eclipsed by the full hellish nightmare of the night before flooding back.

Chibs closed his eyes, as if that might be enough to escape the reality he didn't want to face.

Fuck.

Little wonder he'd once again sought solace at the bottom of a whiskey bottle. He must have gotten well and truly rat-arsed though, because he couldn't even remember more than a few flashes of his encounter with his unexpected – and frankly, unwelcome – companion.

He could remember Jerry Collins showing up at the clubhouse in the middle of the fight night after-party that had, not surprisingly, wound up migrating there from the gym. The sheriff had been grim-faced, all business – tactful, but insistent in his need for a quiet word, despite the obvious bad timing.

The news itself had left Chibs reeling.

He'd had to step up though. He'd had to be the one to tell Charlie.

The boy had been hard to coax away from the young sweetbutts cooing over him after his exploits in the ring and, knowing what lay ahead, Chibs struggled to bark an order at the prospect as was his right.

"Charlie," he'd tried again, something in his tone finally catching the young man's attention. "Wi' me, kid. Now."

Collins had stayed, stood quietly in the corner of the club church, but Chibs was still determined the boy would hear it from him. Even if he didn't know how he was going to find the words.

"Charlie, son, there ain't no easy way to say this … It's yer ma …"

He couldn't remember how he'd explained. But even now, laid in his bed with a sleeping woman he was torn between wanting to wake because he wanted her gone and not wanting to wake because he didn't want to have to face her, Chibs swallowed hard at the memory of the anguished cry that had chilled him to the bone. Like so many other dark moments from his past, he had no doubt it would haunt him for years to come.

The rest was hazier now, but he thought he'd slipped away just long enough to find Tig and explain, immediately sobering his shocked VP. He'd had to convince him to stay put and say nothing to anyone else, before loading their stunned prospect into the back of Collins' car and following on his bike to St Thomas.

Catastrophic head injuries. Blunt force trauma. Bleed on the brain.

Chibs wasn't sure how much he really took in, never mind Charlie. It had been clear they were being prepared for the worst though. Hope was apparently not a luxury they could afford.

Hours dragged on.

It was immediate family only by April's bedside in the ICU and, as much as he'd wanted to stay for Charlie's sake, the hospital hadn't been keen. He'd finally given in to going home and returning in the morning with anything Charlie might need, strictly on the condition he'd be called if there was any change, however slight.

It seemed he'd let down his side of the bargain though – swapping the advised sleep, hot shower and food for the better part of a bottle of whiskey and the cold comfort of meaningless sex with the first willing body.

The president shook his head, inwardly cursing himself. And her, even though he knew that wasn't fair. It wasn't her fault he'd taken leave of his fucking senses and decided to do his thinking with the wrong head. He just hoped to Christ she'd take the hint and leave without a fuss, but at least croweaters were used to that.

"Hey," he tried, his voice even rougher than it usually was first thing. "Darlin', wake up – time to go."

She stirred sleepily, murmuring some kind of protest, before a hand lazily swept her hair off her face and his heart seemed to sink even further when he finally recognised her.

"Lisa?"

"Oh, so you do know my name," Seth's receptionist managed, shifting off him to flop back against the pillows. "You kept calling me Eden last night. You'd think the least you could do is offer me breakfast to make up for it … Like, seriously? We're not even anything alike."

"You got that right," Chibs sighed heavily, letting his eyes close again. "Get the fuck out."

* * *

Even having been unceremoniously kicked out of bed, gathering up her scattered clothes along with what was left of her dignity to get dressed in the bathroom where she wouldn't have to see Chibs' obvious regret over their hook-up, Lisa Sullivan was left nursing a bruised ego along with her hangover and running late for work. She didn't even have time to go home first, so she was going to have to try to sneak into the gym and grab fresh clothes from her locker, hoping no one spotted her in her conspicuous dress and heels.

She knew that in itself was a long shot, and that her absence from the front desk had probably already been noted, groaning inwardly at the thought of Seth's disapproval. Her time-keeping was already something of an issue with the big gym owner, who had shown no signs so far of being swayed by her attempts to get round him by flirting and laughing it off. It suddenly dawned on her that sleeping with his sister's ex might not be a sparkling career move either, but she quickly tried to push that thought to the back of her mind.

It wasn't like Eden was still with Chibs. She hadn't done anything wrong.

Much as she might try to tell herself that though, Lisa couldn't help wishing she could turn the clock back. She and Eden might not have been super close, but they had become friends and she knew the paramedic would probably feel betrayed by what she'd done. Plus, she'd been stupid to think the biker president had any real interest in her, especially when he was so clearly drowning his sorrows over something and hung up on Eden. She didn't know why she'd persisted. She should have learned her lesson by now, especially after all the time she'd spent pointlessly lusting over Jax from afar and then chasing after Kozik, thinking what they'd had might have become more than just a casual fling.

She'd finally realised she was such a cliché, just another croweater trying to bag herself a Son, and she'd walked away – only to fall back into that lifestyle when the club got more involved with the gym. It was pathetic though. At least the Tacoma sergeant had been attracted to her, even if he'd only been interested in one thing. She didn't get the impression Chibs was even really after that. Not from her anyway.

She'd gotten too drunk and too carried away with the fantasy of having finally caught the eye of a patch, the club president no less. But she'd had to practically drag him into bed and it had been all too clear his mind couldn't have been further away. She'd ended up feigning a level of energy and enthusiasm he couldn't even be bothered trying to match and that she hadn't really felt anyway.

All in all, the whole sorry encounter hadn't exactly done wonders for her self-esteem. Maybe they could just pretend it never happened. It was already obvious that would suit Chibs just fine …

The stares and the whispers when she finally arrived at the gym quickly told her that wasn't going to be an option though and she struggled to hold her head high and ignore them as she headed for her locker.

"Good of you to join us."

Lisa winced at Seth's cold tone, turning to find him stood behind her, arms folded across his chest and a questioning gaze practically burning a hole in her.

"Sorry, boss," she tried to smile sheepishly. "I …"

"Have an excuse? Better be a good one."

"I'm sorry, Seth – it won't happen again."

"You're damn right it won't. You know something? If it wasn't for Eden defending you, you'd have been out on your ass a long time ago. Rub this in her face and you really will be looking for another job."

"It was a mistake," she said quietly, realising he wasn't just angry over her lateness and that she should have known the gossip mill would already have been churning. Too many people connected to the gym had been at the fight night and subsequent celebrations. Word was always going to get out. "It really won't happen again."

But Seth's face only darkened and she realised she had now pretty much confirmed what he could only have suspected from the rumours he'd obviously heard. "Seth …"

"What you do in your private life is on you," he said tightly. "Turn up late again and you're out. Got it?"

"Got it," she nodded ruefully.

* * *

The call came too late in the end.

Chibs had taken just enough time to grab a quick shower and a coffee to try to clear his head and was already crossing the yard towards his Harley to head back to the hospital when his phone rang. April had taken a turn for the worse and if there was anyone else they could call to be with Charlie, now was the time.

He prayed to a god he wasn't even sure he believed in any more the whole way to St Thomas, abandoning his bike as close to the door as he could get, taking stairs two at a time and hurrying along corridors.

He was still too late.

By the time they let him into the room where April lay, she was gray and still, her eyes closed. The machines were quiet, having been turned off once it was clear there was no more to be done, all the tubes and wires useless. Her injuries looked terrible, her fragile skull shattered, blood matted in her dark hair and her face badly bruised. Her lips were blue.

Charlie sat there like he was scared to move, just staring at her in disbelief, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen and her hand caught in his.

Chibs hesitated just inside the doorway, swallowing down a lump in his throat. "Charlie-Boy … I'm so fucking sorry, lad."

The young man nodded in acknowledgement, but then simply ducked his head, clearly not wanting to lose what little grip he had on his emotions in front of his president.

"Is there anyone you want me to call?" Chibs tried, just in case there might be some aunt or uncle he didn't know about, even though he was fairly sure there wasn't.

Sure enough, Charlie shook his head. "I … I don't have a-anyone left," he managed, the break in his voice making even the older biker's eyes sting with tears.

But he forced them back, moving to the young man's side and making him turn to look at him as he crouched by his chair. "Oi, what the fuck are we then, huh?" Chibs demanded, a hand settling on the back of Charlie's bowed head and giving it a little shake, but there was no harshness in his tone. "I know this is hard, kid, I do, and don't you ever be ashamed o' shedding tears for your ma, you hear me? But you ain't alone. You got me, your brothers. We're family, son. Don't you forget that."

Spotting a nurse waiting outside the window, Chibs took a deep breath. "Come on. Let them get her cleaned up a bit, eh? We'll come back, I promise. You can take all the time you need. But let's just … get some air."

"I … I can't leave her alone …"

"I know, but she won't be alone. The nurses, they'll take good care o' her," Chibs said, somehow getting the young man on his feet, an arm around his shoulders. "We'll come straight back. That's a good lad."

"If you want to wait in the relatives' room at the end of the hall, someone will come and get you when we've finished," the nurse said quietly, once they'd made it out of the room.

"Thanks, darlin'," Chibs said, starting to steer his charge in the direction she'd pointed.

"Charlie?"

Both bikers turned at the soft call, spotting Eden jogging towards them in her paramedic uniform.

"I just heard," she said, her attention focused on the prospect hanging his head and seeming to be hanging on by a thread as everything threatened to overwhelm him. "Oh, honey, I'm so, so sorry. Come here …"

Charlie hesitated as she held out her arms, but found himself simply wrapped in a warm hug, his arms instinctively going around her before he broke down and finally cried into her shoulder. The rawness of his pain was excruciating to witness. All Eden could do, her heart breaking for him, was hold him tighter, tears on her own cheeks and a hand in his mop of thick brown hair.

She didn't try to hush him, didn't tell him it was okay when it so clearly wasn't. She just let him get that wave of grief out, sinking to the floor of the hospital corridor with him when his legs gave out and rocking him gently as Chibs watched over them both with a heavy heart.


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N: A swift update while I have the chance ... Thanks for sticking with this through the darkness - we're not out of it yet, but I promise there is light ahead. And more twists and turns. And probably more darkness. But also light lol. Do feel free to share your thoughts, it's always great to hear from you. T x**

* * *

**Thirty-One**

Although they were both worried about the shell-shocked prospect, both Chibs and Eden felt they needed to give Charlie some time alone with his mom to try to come to terms with what had happened and say his goodbyes in private. That left them sat in uncomfortable silence at opposite ends of the small couch in one of the ICU relatives' rooms, each of them lost in their own head.

As much as Charlie was their priority now, the loss of a loved one would always stir up difficult memories for them both – Eden having been devastated to have lost her dad as a child and still finding herself haunted from time to time by thoughts of the family torn apart by the crash that would end up doing so much to shatter her own life too, and Chibs painfully reminded of the young woman who had been ripped from him while carrying a child they'd known nothing about and the long years he had spent in exile away from his wife and daughter.

"I'm glad you're here, sweetheart," Chibs said finally, not looking up from where he was sat hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, although he did reach tentatively for Eden's hand.

But she pulled away when his fingers grazed hers. "I'm here for _Charlie_."

"I know," Chibs sighed, something in her choked voice making him suspect that news of April's passing wasn't all that had reached her ears. "Eden …"

"Don't," she managed, in an order that would have sounded sharper if it hadn't been so much like a plea. "I can't do this here."

The biker raked a hand through his hair and nodded in understanding. It wasn't the time or the place, he knew that. But he also knew how much she was hurting and not just for Charlie. He hated that he was the cause of that. He wanted to at least try to explain, to—

"Lisa though, seriously?" Eden blurted out, rounding on him despite her own reluctance, her green eyes bright with tears and hurt and disbelief. "All the women at your disposal and you have to sleep with the one who works for my brother – the one I have to see all the time, the one I thought was my friend!"

He had to force himself not to look away guiltily. Whether they were together or not, he knew it had been a dick move, albeit a largely unintentional one. She deserved better than excuses. She deserved better than him running from his mistakes. He met her gaze with nothing but sincere regret etched all over his scarred face.

"I'm sorry, darlin', truly," he said roughly. "I ain't gonna fill your head wi' bullshit, but I need you to know I never meant to hurt you. I know it ain't an excuse, but I was so fucking drunk. This whole horrific mess wi' April … I weren't thinking straight. Or at all. It was nothing. She could have been anyone. Except you. She could never be you and that was all I wanted. Just you."

Eden shook her head tearfully, torn between wanting to believe him and wanting to slap him for saying that when he was the one who had pushed her away in the first place.

"You don't get to say that when _you_ were the one who ended it," she said, swiping at the tears staining her cheeks as she got up to pace the room in her distress. "Saying you wanted me, it's like it's somehow my fault for not being there! Maybe you just want what you can't have – because you did have me, Filip, so what happened? Was I not good enough? Did you just get bored?"

Chibs jumped to his feet at that, his jaw tense as he grabbed her by the arms, refusing to let her pull away from him when she tried. "You know that ain't it," he growled. "I know I fucked up and that's on me, but don't turn this into something it ain't. I love you, Eden."

"You've got a fucking funny way of showing it!" she bit out, wrenching out of his grasp and heading for the door. "I need some air."

* * *

"You doing okay, sweetheart?"

Trying to focus on the paperwork piling on her desk in the Sam's Yard office, despite the tears blurring her vision, Lyla tried to nod. "Mm-hmm, fine."

"Hate to break it to you, doll, but for an actress, that needed work," Tig said, pushing away from the doorframe he'd been leaning against and coming into the office.

"I just thought if I could at least get ahead of things here – I mean, we're going to be busy with organising the funeral and sorting out April's house and …"

Hushing her mid-flow, Tig simply pulled her out of her seat and into his arms for a hug, petting her hair softly as she finally turned her face into his chest and gave into the tears that had been threatening.

"I can't stop thinking about poor Charlie," Lyla wept. "And April, oh my god, she must have been so scared. Why does this keep happening to our family, Tig? Why do we keep losing people like this?"

Amid a fresh wave of long-standing remorse for his own deadly actions against that very family and guilt that it should be Opie's widow of all people in his arms asking that question, the VP didn't trust himself to speak and instead just held her tighter, pressing a little kiss to the top of her head.

"Is Chibs still at the hospital with Charlie?"

"Yeah," Tig managed. "They'll probably head back here soon."

"They'll be exhausted," Lyla said, pulling back to wipe her eyes and take a deep breath. It was easier to keep going if she had someone else to focus on, something practical to do. "Are you all right to finish up here if I go and check their rooms are clean? Eden might be able to get hold of something to help Charlie sleep if the hospital doesn't think to give him something …"

"You go," he nodded. "Get some of the girls to help if anything needs done though. You do too much for us already, baby. And Vee's gonna come round with some food later, so don't worry about that."

Kissing his cheek with a weak smile, Lyla headed across the yard and into the main clubhouse, finding it quieter than usual, despite a few familiar faces milling around. News of April's brutal death had clearly hit hard, especially among those who had been around long enough to remember her being much closer to the heart of the club family. She went to check Charlie's room first, determined to do everything she could to make sure the young man was at least comfortable when he returned.

Her nose crinkled at the pile of laundry on the floor and crumpled sheets on the unmade bed, sweeping everything into the basket like she might for her own kids and making a mental note to ask someone to collect it. Tidying a few other bits and pieces, the photos pinned to the wall by the window caught her attention and her eyes welled up again at one in particular of Charlie and his mom, their arms wrapped around each other and both of them beaming for the camera. It had been just the two of them for so long and now …

Sniffing back tears, Lyla let her fingers trace over the photo gently before forcing herself to keep busy, heading to check on Chibs' room. It wasn't anywhere near as messy as Charlie's, but she thought he might appreciate fresh sheets after a long night and she made a mental note to have his added to the laundry pile while again setting about straightening out the room. She frowned at the sight of the nearly empty whiskey bottle on the nightstand and moved to grab it, only to stop in her tracks at the sight of the crumpled foil packet beside it.

An empty condom wrapper.

Fuck.

She headed back out to the bar with the remains of the whiskey, considering for a moment before dumping it into a glass and taking a long swig.

"Bit early for you, ain't it, babe?"

Turning to see Knox looking at her bemused, Lyla just banged the empty glass down on the counter. "Did Chibs stay here last night?"

"Uh, who's asking?" the visiting sergeant asked, sensing trouble.

"Don't do that," Lyla glared at him. "Don't cover for him."

"He was here," Knox conceded. "Went with Charlie when the sheriff arrived, came back for a bit when the hospital sent him home. What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing," Lyla said, now tinged with more than a little anger and frustration. "Just the usual – you lot always thinking with your goddamn dicks!"

"Whoa, bit harsh, sweetheart," the biker tried, wide-eyed. "Don't go tarring us all with the same brush. Is this about that blonde chick trying to sneak outta Chibs' room this morning? He is turning into a greedy bastard in his old age …"

"Who was she?" Lyla immediately demanded, now wishing she had asked her mom to have the kids so she could have stuck around and maybe talked some sense into the club's president. "One of the usual bitches?"

"Pretty sure it was that broad Koz used to bang sometimes, although she looked a bit worse for wear …"

Lyla, her own experiences with Ima and betrayal now rearing their ugly head along with everything else, closed her eyes in despair. "Lisa. Oh, Chibs, you fucking idiot."

* * *

Listening with one ear to the sheriff's account of what they knew so far, more of Chibs' attention was actually focused on watching over his young charge through a crack in the blinds over the window between April's room and the hallway. Eden had gone to join Charlie, sitting beside him at his mother's bedside, his hand clutched tightly in hers and her head resting lightly on his shoulder.

"You think we need to look into contacting Kyle Hobart?" Collins asked, finally cutting through the biker's thoughts and making him shake his head.

"Huh? Oh, Kyle … Nah. He's a piece o' work, but he ain't involved in this," Chibs said.

"He should be told though surely?"

"Why? Him and April divorced years ago."

"He's still Charlie's father …"

"Charlie's twenty-one and he don't need that feckless arsehole in his life. He weren't there for the kid when he needed him, why should now be any different?"

"Way I hear it, that wasn't entirely exactly through choice," Collins shrugged coolly.

It hit a nerve, taking a second for Chibs to recover himself enough to jab a finger in the sheriff's face. "Maybe he should have thought o' that before he did what he did," he snapped. "Don't stick your nose in what you don't understand or what don't concern you."

"That young man's welfare concerns me. Finding out who killed his mother concerns me."

"You think it don't concern me too?"

"Maybe that's what I'm afraid of. Where Samcro's _concern_ might lead."

"How about you just focus on doing your job then?" Chibs suggested, a dark look on his face. "That way, we won't have to … express our concerns. And leave Charlie to me. His ma asked me to look after him – I ain't gonna let her down twice."

* * *

"How can I leave her here? She doesn't belong here – I want to take her h-home …"

Trying to coax Charlie into finally leaving the hospital was nothing short of heart-breaking, the realisation that he would never see his mom again finally hitting him with enough force to almost rob him of breath.

"I know, sweetie, I know," Eden whispered, unable to hide her own tears in the face of his grief as she pleaded with him. "I know it's hard, the hardest thing you'll ever have to do, but you can't stay here. I'm worried about you, Charlie. Please, let us look after you."

"Aye, come on, son," Chibs added, sympathy in his brown eyes and in the hand on the young man's shoulder. "We need to get you home …"

But his well-intentioned words only sparked fresh panic in his prospect, his head jerking up. "Home … I don't have a home anymore. I can't go back there – I can't go where she … Where they … Where will I go?"

"Oi, easy now, ya wee daftie," Chibs tried, pulling him into a warm hug to try to sooth him. "You'll come back wi' me where you belong, o' course. I told you, Charlie-Boy, we're family. I love you, kid. Now, Eden's going to drive you and I'll be right behind, okay? There's a good lad. Kiss your ma …"

Eden dashed away more tears as they watched Charlie press a soft kiss with trembling lips to his mother's pale forehead, agony on his crumpled face as he had to turn away from her.

"I love you, mom. Sleep tight."

His heartfelt little whisper made Eden press a shaky hand to her mouth to keep from sobbing and, despite the earlier tension between them, Chibs couldn't help reaching out to lay a gentle hand on her arm.

"Hey, you good to drive, pet?" he murmured, in obvious concern. "I can leave the bike here, take your car …"

But she shook her head, taking a deep breath and trying to pull herself together. "I'm good," she insisted, but at least there was no animosity in her soft tone. "Come on, Charlie, honey – this way."

Left alone in the stillness of the room, his former brother's old lady a terrible reminder of the violent chaos that existed in their world, Chibs' shoulders sagged and his hand shook as he wiped it over his face, crossing himself and then kissing his fingers before touching them lightly to her cold cheek.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, April," he murmured. "I promise you, I'll look after your boy. And I'll make the fuckers who did this pay. On my life, darlin', I promise."


	32. Chapter 32

**Thirty-Two**

Checking up on Charlie, Chibs sighed to find he had clearly cried himself to sleep on top of the covers, Eden's hand still caught in his as she lay beside him, also out for the count. Under any other circumstances, and despite his obvious hypocrisy, he'd have been at least rankled if not furious to find the woman who had stolen his heart sharing a bed with any of his brothers. But, as it was, he didn't think he'd ever seen anything so innocent in a clubhouse dorm. The prospect looked like what he more or less was – a broken little boy in need of comfort. And Eden just seemed exhausted, probably drained by the emotion of the day.

The president moved quietly across the room, lifting a soft blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it over both of them. He'd let them be.

His own bed seemed to be calling to him, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to sleep, even if he tried. Besides, he wasn't ready to deal with returning to the scene of the crime, so to speak. He'd already felt Lyla's wrath over what had gone down, so on top of replaying Eden's hurt response over and over in his mind, he couldn't really feel like more of an arsehole.

"Listen, love, you can't be any angrier at me than I am at myself," he'd tried, on being greeted by folded arms and that look that never meant anything good.

"You wanna bet?" Lyla had shot back archly, pulling him into a hug anyway. "That's for looking after Charlie. Don't think I'm not still mad at you."

Now, leaning down, he touched his lips to Eden's forehead and let his fingers lightly ruffle Charlie's hair before leaving them to get their rest. He just needed some time to think, to process. To take a leaf out of Jax's book.

He headed for the ladder to the roof.

* * *

"Easy money, you said. No hassle, you said," Archie Vane growled, as he and the rest of the War Boys huddled around a table in the dive bar they used as an unofficial base of sorts.

"And you're getting your cut, aren't you?" Mack shot back, not liking the kind of scrutiny he was finding himself under. The whole meth thing had been his idea and they'd all been happy enough to go along with it when everything was going to plan. Suddenly getting on his back at the first sign of trouble riled him as unfair.

It wasn't like he'd forced that stupid kid to overdose, or those tweaking little shits to fuck up raiding some bitch's house to the point where the cops were now in overdrive looking into her murder.

Now he couldn't even mention that he suspected the assholes they had cooking for them were skimming product to either use themselves or sell on the sly. That really would turn this whole thing into a clusterfuck he was looking increasingly likely to be forced to take the entire blame for. And he wasn't having that.

"You know that Hobart bitch is connected to the Sons, right?"

Fuck. No, he hadn't known that and he was too slow to keep the tell-tale look off his face.

"Shit," he muttered, raking a hand through his hair. "How?"

"Her old man was patched. Heard on the grapevine they exiled him. I ain't sure of the details, but …"

"But they're hardly gonna be too concerned if her man's on the out," Mack frowned. "That connection could be ancient history."

"Ain't that simple. Her kid's one of their prospects," Archie corrected the sergeant. "Which puts her much closer to the fold."

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit."

Johnny, seated at the head of the table, took a long drag of his cigar and blew out a stream of fragrant smoke. "Shut it down."

"What? Boss, be serious – this'll blow over. We need the funds if we're ever gonna get ourselves in the gun game as more than bit players."

"I said shut it down," the president snapped. "The cook house goes. End of story. Maybe not forever, but at least for a few weeks until the heat dies down. I ain't having the cops crawling up our asses over this bullshit."

Mack's face was mutinous, but he knew better than to say anything.

"I can take care of it," Archie chipped it, but that made the sergeant shake his head firmly.

"No! I can handle it. Leave it to me," he insisted, the cogs of his brain already turning. "I got this."

* * *

"You ain't planning on pushing me, are you?"

"Don't give me any ideas. I haven't made up my mind yet," Eden said, as she managed the final rungs of the ladder and stepped onto the roof.

"Watch yoursel', lass," Chibs warned, watching as she picked her way carefully towards him, noting the dark shadows under her eyes. "There ain't much room for manoeuvre up here."

He had to admit the place where Jax had so often sought refuge away from the noise of the busy clubhouse was a good spot to escape to, even if he had previously cursed his young president any time he'd had to haul his ass up there to retrieve him. And he needed that space right now. Somewhere to just sit, a lit cigarette idling between his fingers, away from everyone and looking out across the yard to the world beyond.

Realising he must have lost track of time given how low the sun had sunk in the sky, Chibs turned back to that view as Eden sat down beside him, neither of them speaking for a long time. Neither of them sure what to say.

"You shouldn't have let me sleep so long."

"Looked like you needed it," he shrugged. "Charlie still out?"

"Like a light. I don't think I woke him getting up. Poor kid's probably in shock – sleep's the best thing for him. Seems like maybe you could do with some yourself."

"I'll be all right, darlin'," Chibs said, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Nice to know you still care though."

"Professional duty," she said, making him snort wryly.

"Ah, o' course."

Silence fell between them again and Eden reached out, taking the butt of his cigarette from him and raising it to her lips for a tiny drag before handing it back as she blew out the smoke slowly.

"Do the cops know much about what happened? To April? I heard they think it's drugs linked."

"They're piecing it together," Chibs said carefully, not wanting to worry her too much with the details, but he could see she wasn't going to be fobbed off.

"And you? Are you piecing it together?"

"You know the club's position on keeping Charming protected. Not that we're making much o' a job o' it right now," he said, his tone turning bitter as he thought of April laying pale and still in that hospital bed. "Jesus Christ. How the hell did we allow this to happen? I shoulda done something sooner, before it came to this …"

Eden frowned at that, watching in concern as he pitched his smoke and buried his head in his hands. Despite everything going on between them, she couldn't just sit back and watch him beat himself up like that over something so terrible. "Hey, this is not your fault," she tried, her hand touching his shoulder tentatively. "You can't blame yourself for this."

"Can't I?" he ground out. "This club drove that wee lad's da out and now we've sat back and let his ma die on our watch. Fuck, Eden, I dunno how much more o' this I can take. How many more people I can bury."

Taking a deep breath that hitched in her chest at the sound of the raw emotion in his voice, realising he was on the verge of losing his grip on everything he was trying to bottle up for everyone else's sake, Eden gave in to her instinct to pull him into a comforting hug, just like she had with Charlie. No matter what else had happened, April's death gave it all fresh perspective and she couldn't stand to see him hurting like he was.

"It's not your fault," she whispered, holding him tight, feeling hot tears on her skin as he buried his face against her neck, his arms wrapping around her. "Please don't put this on your shoulders."

"I'm the one in charge," came his muffled response. "It all has to fall on me. But I was never meant to be the one holding the gavel. That was Jax's job. And I just ain't sure I'm up to it, darlin'."

Letting her fingers sooth their way through his hair, she gave him a moment to just let that out as she held him. Then she steeled herself for a different approach, pulling back just enough to take his face in her hands.

"Bullshit," she said firmly, green eyes blazing as they met his startled brown ones.

"W-What …?"

"You heard me. Bullshit. Not up to it? Fuck off with that, Filip," she scoffed. "I know I didn't get the chance to know Jax, but I do know what he meant to you, to all of you, and I'm sorry he's not still here with you. But the way I hear it, he wasn't infallible. And no one expects you to be either. But your club needs a leader and, right now, there is no one more qualified for the job than you. You're tough, smart – even if you do a good job of hiding that sometimes … And I know you've got a good heart. Your brothers would follow you to the ends of the earth. They respect you. They love you. Don't be so fucking hard on yourself."

Thrown by the intensity of her diatribe, Chibs' could only look at her longingly, lost for words and finding himself reminded – not that he needed to be – exactly why he had fallen in love with the woman in front of him. But, just as he leaned in on impulse to kiss her, she pulled away.

"I … I should go," she said softly.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, even though he supposed he knew it couldn't be that easy.

"I'll come back tomorrow. Check in on Charlie."

Chibs' rekindled glimmer of hope dimmed a little again at her clarification, but he refused to give up entirely. He wouldn't push right now, not when they were both probably wrung out. But he would try to make things right sooner rather than later. Somehow.

"I'll see you out," he conceded for now, both of them making their way to the ladder that led back down into the clubhouse, his arm shooting out to steady Eden when she swayed unsteadily. "Easy, lass – you good?"

"I … I'm fine. Probably just tired," she said quickly. Too quickly, he thought, easing past her when he realised she was now eyeing the ladder unsurely.

"Here, I'll go first and you follow me – I'll be right there, I won't let you fall," he said.

And true to his word, he stayed as close as he could, ready to guide her sneaker-clad feet or to hold her steady until they were both back on terra firma.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked, as he walked her to the door, watching as she stepped through it and out into the yard, tilting her head back towards the dusk-streaked sky. He'd seen her collapse once before through pushing herself too hard and, much as he was glad of her support for Charlie, he didn't want her taking on too much and having it happen again. For all her advice to him, the girl just didn't seem to know when to cut _herself_ some slack.

But Eden simply shrugged off his concern, as he had suspected she would. "I'm okay, really. Maybe just some viral thing I can't quite shake. I just haven't gotten around to going to see about it. You know us medical types – the worst patients."

His frown only deepened. So there was something then and yet here she was, worrying about them despite working long hours and helping Seth when she could. He knew there was no point making a fuss though. She'd only dig her heels in more.

"Go home, sweetheart," Chibs said gently. "Get some proper rest."

"You will call me if there's anything I can do? If Charlie's not coping, or you need help with the funeral, or …"

Touched all over again by how readily she had stepped up, the urge to just take her in his arms and never let go was almost overwhelming, but the biker somehow settled for grazing a tiny kiss against her cheek.

"Thanks, darlin'," he managed, even though it felt wholly inadequate. "Hey, do me a wee favour, will ya? Drop me a text when you get home? Just so I know you got there safe …"

She simply nodded absently as she headed for her car and, a half-hour later, he was just starting to worry when his phone finally emitted a small single beep.

_Home safe. Look after yourself. E x_

Better than nothing, he supposed.


	33. Chapter 33

**Thirty-Three**

"Do not stand at m-my grave and weep …"

The prospect's soft voice, choked with emotion, sent more than a few heads bowing among all those gathered to pay their last respects to April Hobart. Despite the fact she had tended to hide herself away since the shame of her ex-husband's ejection from the Sons, the turn-out was more than decent. The shocking brutality of her death had struck a nerve in the community, especially so soon after the passing of the young boxer.

"I am … not there. I … do not s-sleep."

A tear escaped down Charlie's cheek and he scrubbed it away, the hand clutching the piece of paper trembling as he struggled to get the words written on it out. He had wanted to do this, for his mom. It was important to him that he paid tribute to her, that he did her proud. But the poem seemed to swim on the page, even as he felt the pressure of all those people gathered in front of him. He couldn't look at them, but he knew they were there just the same.

Chibs, Tig, Happy and all his brothers. Knox and a host of out-of-town patches. Eden and Seth. Lyla. Even Flick.

Everyone that mattered to him, all expecting him to get this right.

"I … I …"

He couldn't. Couldn't get the words out, could barely even see them printed right in front of him. Couldn't bear the thought that this was the last thing he would ever get to do for his mother. The woman who had worked so hard to raise him, mostly on her own.

Sat beside her brother, Eden was anxiously willing the heartbroken young man to get through the reading, but realising it was all proving too much for him, she was starting to wonder if she should intervene. Just as she went to get up and go to him though, she caught sight of Chibs getting up from his place in the front row.

The president headed to his prospect's side, laying an encouraging hand on his shoulder, giving him the chance to pull himself together. But seeing how Charlie's breath hitched in his chest, his tearful eyes panicked, Chibs gently took the sheet of paper from him and cleared his throat.

"Do not stand at my grave and weep," he began, his voice low and rough, his accent seeming a little thicker than usual. "I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow."

As he read the moving poem, Chibs kept Charlie by his side with a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. By the time he neared the last line, there was barely a dry eye among the gathered mourners.

"Do not stand at my grave and cry," he read, glancing up at all those in front of him, his gaze seeming to seek out Eden instinctively. "I am not there. I did not die."

* * *

"Earth to Eden …"

"Huh? Oh, sorry, I was miles away," she said, managing a smile for her partner as she sat up from where she'd been slumped against the passenger-side window of their ambulance.

"Anywhere nice?"

"Not exactly. That funeral I had to go to this morning … Guess it just got me thinking."

"About?" Desi prompted gently. "Or tell me to mind my own business. But you know if you got shit on your mind, you can always offload on your Uncle Desi."

That drew another small smile, but a more genuine one this time, and she nodded. "I know. And you know I really appreciate it, right? Much as I needed a fresh start, transferring and starting over … I thought it would kinda suck, but you've been so good to me since we got paired up."

"We're partners," he shrugged easily. "That's how it works. I got your back, you got mine. And with that in mind, I'm concerned about your fluid intake – coffee run while we've got five minutes?"

"Sounds like a-" Eden trailed off, with a roll of her eyes as the radio crackled to life with details of their next shout. "Plan. On second thoughts, rain check?"

"Rain check," Desi sighed. "Gonna be one of those nights. Light us up …"

* * *

Pulling his bike over at the end of a secluded dirt track, Mack pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and grimaced at the name lighting up the screen. Stella. Again.

He'd be lying if he denied getting a serious kick out of knowing just how risky a game they were playing screwing around behind Johnny's back, but that was back when he only saw one side to his president's old lady – the side she presented to the world as she fought to find a place for herself. To try to step up to the position in the wider community left vacant by Gemma Teller.

Strong woman. Matriarch. Badass biker queen.

Now he could see her for what she was though. Desperate.

She wanted to be somebody, have some kind of role, some kind of power … Even if it was just over those bullshit little fundraisers or whatever the hell it was those prim do-gooders did. And up close, he could see the cracks in her surface. How she tried too hard, went too far. Maybe it was just that he'd only ever known the Teller woman from a distance and Christ knows if it was true she offed her own daughter-in-law with a goddamn barbeque fork, there must have been serious issues beneath the surface there too, but now he just couldn't see Stella ever earning the same respect that Gemma had - however begrudgingly - commanded.

Where the one-time Samcro queen had seemed to reign with a steely coolness, crushing any threat to her throne under a stiletto-heeled boot, Stella could only dig those talons in and cling on as best she could, mostly getting her way by manipulation, or screaming and lashing out.

Clearly Gemma must have had issues with her son's old lady, but generally … It had looked like she just kept the broads that flocked around the clubhouse in line. He'd seen them out running errands, like they were part of some big fucked up happy family instead of just the supply of easy pussy.

He knew from experience how Stella would react to younger, hotter women tottering around her territory and it was safe to say it wouldn't be fucking pretty. Hell, the only other old lady she even tolerated was Archie's wife and she was Johnny's sister. Hence the War Boys clubhouse was, unfortunately for some of its patches, something of a cold house for women. No wonder they spent most of their time using some shitty bar-cum-strip joint as their unofficial base.

Jealousy wasn't so much a mere green-eyed monster when it came to Stella – it was more a full-blown, red-with-rage, psychotic beast.

So why the fuck had he even gone there in the first place? He could only hang his head and admit he'd been too blinded by that shiny surface to see the cracks. Where now he saw her temper and insecurity and volatility, he'd previously failed to look any further than the blonde hair, red lips, big tits.

But even that image of her was losing its appeal. Suddenly the effort she put in was just her trying too hard. The voluptuous figure faked instead of natural. The make-up caked on rather than glamourous, highlighting age instead of creating an illusion of youth. The skin-tight clothes and plunging necklines trashy over sexy.

Mack cut the call without answering. He knew he wasn't being fair, but the reality was that he didn't give a shit. He'd wanted the thrill of an illicit fuck and he'd got it. Now he felt fucking trapped and he resented Stella for it, knowing that if he pissed her off, she might just be unstable enough to tell Johnny everything. No doubt painting him as the instigator, turning on the tears and twisting herself into the victim.

All he could hope for was her getting bored and moving on to some other warped little game to amuse herself. Maybe that way they could just let things fizzle out and he could keep his patch and his life intact.

Fucking women, he scowled to himself as he made his way from where he'd left his bike, through the woods towards a lone cabin almost hidden by trees. It only rubbed salt in the wound to think of the hot little bitch they'd had a run in with at the garage – how the fuck had that Scottish prick ended up with her in his bed?

As much as that whole encounter had pissed him off, his mind had drifted back more than once to the long tan legs and tight little ass in those tiny shorts. He had to hand it to the Samcro president, he had impeccable fucking taste … Jesus, no wonder Stella had been practically white with fury over how that had gone down. He'd had to shoot the damn place up just to get some fucking peace.

In fact, as he rounded the cabin to find the little used rear door, he was still a little amazed they seemed to have gotten away with that. He'd thought for sure the late-night attack on the Sons' clubhouse would rain fury down on all their heads. Maybe the bastards really were going soft.

"Oh shit …"

* * *

All thoughts of Stella, the Sons and everything else left his mind the moment Mack walked into the dimly-lit dilapidated cookhouse just in time to catch his cooks red-handed as they clearly skimmed off product for themselves. Never ignore your gut, never trust meth-heads around meth - life lessons that should have been obvious from the get-go.

"Oh shit … It ain't what it looks like, man."

"Why, what's it look like?" Mack demanded. "A couple of thieving little pricks already high on a free fix and stashing another batch to try to turn a profit on my dime? 'Cause if it ain't that, then what the hell is it?"

"Yo, we're just … You know … Thinking about quality control and shit," one of them slurred.

"Put it down. All of it," Mack said, drawing his gun when he saw them eyeing the door. "You can get the fuck out, but you leave everything behind."

"You need us, bro – you ain't got shit without us."

His phone started to ring again in his pocket and he gritted his teeth at the distraction, unable to reach for it without either taking his eyes off his marks or lowering his weapon, and there was no telling what the jumpy little fuckers would do if he gave them an inch. Fuck, he was trying to think, but that goddamn ringtone was infesting his brain.

"Don't you move," he warned, trying to get to his phone even as they edged towards the door. "I said don't you move!"

The door opened, but from the outside and his stomach flip-flopped at the sight of his president and VP, guns drawn and faces grim.

"Well, well, well," Johnny drawled. "I coulda swore I said shut this shit down."

Even as Mack floundered for a response, the tweaking cooks seized their chance to bolt and all hell broke loose. Not ideal in a highly volatile meth lab that might as well be sitting on a powder keg. Over-turned chemicals, all highly combustible, hit the floor in the middle of a struggle. Shots fired blindly and on impulse rang out, although only one found its target. Then, just when they thought it was all over, something ignited.

The explosion blew the cabin's front windows out, levelling everything in its path.

* * *

"Fuuuuuuck!" Mack roared desperately, having hauled himself to his feet to survey the damage, his hands tearing at his hair in dismay when he spotted the casualties. What the hell had he done?

He didn't give a shit about the drug-addled cook he'd shot dead more by chance than design. But his president was on the floor howling in pain and clutching his blood-soaked leg, his thigh pierced by a vicious looking metal shard, and Archie was crawling over to see what he could do to help.

"Fuck, this is bad," the VP managed, through his own hisses of pain, glancing up only to see his sergeant recoil in fresh horror. "Don't just stand there, do something!"

Mack could only shake his head helplessly, transfixed by the gruesome burns marring one side of the other man's face.

"Mack, help me with him!" Archie yelled, too consumed by what he saw as Johnny's more pressing injuries to realise the full extent of his own. "We have to do something …"

The sergeant finally steeled himself and, wiping dust from his stinging eyes, pulled out his phone to dial 911.

"Ambulance," he demanded, waving furiously to cut off Archie's shout of protest.

"Are you fucking insane?" the VP hissed. "You can't bring anyone here!"

"I'll handle it," Mack insisted. "I'll make this right."

* * *

As draining as the last few days had been, it took Chibs longer than usual to realise his phone was ringing from its place on the nightstand, dragging him from the depths of sleep.

He cracked an eyeball to check the time and then reached for the phone to answer it, stifling a yawn as he did. "Bit early, innit, mate?" he drawled, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears. "Whoa, Seth, slow the fuck down. What's going on?"

"Eden," came the impatient response. "Is she with you?"

"No," Chibs frowned, an unease already growing in the pit of his stomach as he clamped the phone between his ear and his shoulder and started tugging on his jeans. "Why? What's happened?"

"She hasn't come home," Seth said. "And I can't reach her."

"Maybe she stayed with a … friend?" the biker suggested, not caring to dwell too much on the exact nature of such potential _friends_. But he already knew enough about the siblings' relationship to know that if Seth was worried, there was good reason and not just an easy explanation.

Sure enough, her brother knocked that notion back. "She'd let me know," he said. "I know I ain't her keeper and she knows that too, but this ain't her – she'd let me know. I don't need details, just that she's safe. I dunno what to do … Shit, hang on, I got another call coming through …"

Sticking his phone on speaker, Chibs threw it on the bed to finish dressing quickly, trying to push away all the scenarios trying to creep into his mind before they could take hold and render him completely useless.

"Chibs?"

At Seth's voice, he snatched up the phone again. "Aye? Was that her?"

"Fuck, Chibs, that was her boss," her brother said frantically. "They lost contact with her and Desi during their shift – they're reporting them missing."

Chibs sank down heavily on the edge of his bed and wiped a hand over his face, at a loss as to what to think, let alone say.

"Chibs?" Seth tried, from the other end of the line.

"Sit tight. I'm on my way over."


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: Just a quick note to say thanks so much to all of you still reading, and to those who got in touch for the first time - always much appreciated! T x**

* * *

**Thirty-four**

Eden could taste blood in her mouth and her stomach churned in response, even as her mind raced, trying to think of a next move. Preferably one that wouldn't get them both killed.

So far, she'd only succeeded in further angering the desperate and therefore dangerous man effectively holding them hostage. Her anxious efforts to make him see the futility of his plan had fallen on deaf ears and her insistence that his comrades needed hospital treatment beyond anything she and Desi could hope to achieve in the field had only earned her a vicious backhand that had drawn a shout of protest from her partner and left her reeling.

She knew they were both cursing themselves for not having realised sooner that something wasn't right. But they'd been too caught up in getting to the location they'd been called to and finding their patient to think bigger picture, at least until it was too late. An ambush never crossed their minds.

The bike laid down by the roadside had been their cue to pull over and they had both gotten out to go to the fallen rider – both of them caught off-guard when he rose up suddenly, gun pulled and trained first on one of them and then the other. Hearts sinking, they knew they couldn't risk giving him an excuse to take a shot and, with no other option, had slowly raised their hands in surrender.

"If it's drugs you're after, we don't carry the good shit," Desi had lied.

It didn't make a difference. They had no choice but to do as they were told, driving the ambulance at gunpoint miles off the beaten track to a grim-looking house with broken front windows. The scene inside was chaotic, with blood on the floor and the smell a potent mix of burning and chemicals that made them wince.

The injuries of the two men huddled in a corner were ghastly, but the one with the seared face was still focused on pressing blood-soaked rags to the leg of the other. He lay there deathly pale and writhing in agony and no wonder, given the shard of metal protruding from the meat of his denim-clad thigh.

Eden and Desi had exchanged a look, knowing it was worse than they had feared.

"The fuck are you waiting for?" their captor had roared. "Help them!"

"He needs a hospital," Eden had said, singling out the one with the leg injury. "They both do, but him especially – I dunno what you think we can do, but this is-"

"You're fucking medics – do medical shit! That's what you fucking do!"

"We're paramedics, not surgeons," Eden tried. "We patch them up long enough to get them _proper_ help. He needs that surgically removed. He could get an infection, lose his leg, bleed out. He could _die_ …"

The backhand had stunned her into silence and sent Desi surging forward furiously, only to be forced back by the gun in his face.

"Back the fuck up. Now, let me be real clear here. If he dies, _you_ die. Both of you. Don't think I ain't serious. And you, try anything – she dies. You, try anything and he dies. Got it?"

Eden touched a hand gingerly to the throbbing side of her face and shot Desi a warning look. "Got it."

Their captor hesitated for a moment before lowering his gun, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the trembling young woman in front of him.

"Don't you fucking hurt her," Desi tried, watching as the other man grabbed his partner, only to roughly yank her hair out of its ponytail and look at her again.

"Holy shit," he gawped at her. "You're the chick from the garage. You're Telford's bitch."

With no idea if denying it would make her more or less of a target, Eden floundered for a response and could only stare back at him as he started to laugh in disbelief.

* * *

Pacing the floor of his apartment, stress etched across his face, Seth rounded on the biker stood by the window with his back to him.

"I'm sorry, man, I just didn't know who else to call," he said. "The cops want me to stay put in case she turns up or calls, but … I can't just sit here and do nothing. They're asking all sorts of fucking crazy questions, Chibs. Like, I know they have to cover their bases, but seriously? Eden's the one who's missing – if she's caught up in something, it ain't her doing."

"You sure?"

"Am I sure?" Seth echoed, stunned and then offended by the question. "Am I sure? You, of all people, really think Eden's going to get herself involved in some shady shit?"

"Just covering my bases," Chibs said, refusing to back down. "Can I see that girl nicking an ambulance full o' drugs to sell on the black market? No. But can I see her bending a few rules to help at some free clinic or something and shit she ain't banked on going south?"

"I … didn't think of that," her brother admitted, before a frown crossed his face again. "Nah, nah, that ain't it. She'd have said something. And she wouldn't just take off mid-shift. Whatever's happened, it ain't through anything she's done."

"And this partner o' hers?"

"I dunno. Sounds like a decent guy, from what I've heard. I mean, they seem pretty tight – Eden trusts him, I know that. Desi. Desi Shah. He's, uh, got a wife and a kid. Boy, I think. That's all I know. Jesus, I need to get out there, start looking. For Eden to just disappear like this, something has to be really wrong. And I know she ain't your problem, but …"

Chibs looked round sharply at that, finally revealing the worry in his dark eyes.

"Not my problem?" the Samcro president said, raking a hand through his silver-streaked hair, as he tried to push dark memories of another missing love back into the recesses of his mind. "Listen, bud, I'm gonna level wi' you here just so we're clear. I'm gonna do whatever it takes to find that girl. _Whatever the fuck it takes._ Because I know I've been a stupid bastard, I know I've hurt her, but … Whether you like it or not, I'm head over fucking heels in love wi' your sister and I swear I'm gonna find a way to make things right. So I'm gonna find her, even if I have to tear half o' bloody northern Cali apart to do it."

While the biker braced himself for the punch in the face he had already decided he deserved for leaving it too late to come to his senses, there could be no doubting the intense sincerity of his words. So even though he had resigned himself to allowing Seth that much, the former boxer just stared at him, his fists clenched and body tense. Then he nodded.

"I was kinda hoping you'd say something like that. Just tell me what I can do."

* * *

"Look, if you want our help, then you have to at least let us get some supplies from the ambulance …"

Mack glanced between the two paramedics, clearly trying to decide on the least risky option, and then jerked his head at Eden. "You. On your feet. Try anything and I will fucking kill you. He stays here."

Desi looked ready to protest being separated from his partner under such circumstances, but Eden silenced him with a little shake of her head.

"Fine," she said, getting up to head for the door, only to be grabbed in a rough, vise-like grip. "I'm not going to run," she said. "I'm not leaving Desi behind."

But the biker's grasp never let up as he half dragged her outside, stopping just before they reached the neglected ambulance parked at the back of the tiny property in the small clearing in the middle of the woods.

"Wait," he ordered her. "Don't you move."

Eden, mindful of the gun in his hand, didn't. She could only watch, her heart sinking, as he climbed into the front seat of the vehicle and set about ripping the radio out. Another potential lifeline severed. Not their only one though – as long as their captor continued to neglect to search them and he was clearly too erratic to be really thinking straight, his mind obviously consumed by whatever the hell had happened back at the house.

If this was an indication of how the War Boys operated …

The bike should have been the first clue, but too shocked by what was happening when they'd first found themselves staring down the barrel of a gun, it hadn't actually dawned on Eden who their captor was until she saw the cuts on the backs of the injured men. The patches let her know they were the president and vice-president, although she was able to look past the facial burns and recognise one of them from the first big fight night at the Scrapyard. Archie something, she thought. The president, she only knew by his nickname – Johnny Six. And as for the man who had effectively taken her and Desi prisoner … She realised she had seen him before, with the crazy blonde woman shouting the odds at the garage a while back. And now, having gotten a closer look, she hadn't been sure at first, but something around the eyes had made her take a guess as to his identity. They didn't look much alike, but the family resemblance was definitely lurking in his face.

Mackenzie Rockwell, War Boys sergeant-at-arms. Shane's brother.

She didn't know how much, if any, family loyalty lay between them. And, all things considered, she didn't really want to find out.

* * *

He had to take it to the table. In this new era, still finding his feet as he wielded the gavel, he knew he couldn't just act alone as and when he felt he needed to. Jackson had drifted down that path and nothing good had come of it. At the very least, he needed to keep his men informed, not leave them feeling like they'd been pushed aside. Even if, ultimately, this was a challenge for him alone to face.

He didn't get very far in trying to make that clear.

"With all due respect, boss," Bug spoke up, leaning forward in his seat. "If this is your shit to handle, then it's our shit to handle."

"And I know I'm just here as a visiting patch," Knox added, from where he sat at the back of the room, not at the table but listening in just the same. "But no one knows more than me that Seth Moore has proved himself a real friend to Samcro. Returning the favour shouldn't be a question."

"Besides," Quinn said wryly. "We know how you feel about that girl and what that makes her to this club. We've all just been waiting for you to get your head out of your ass."

Shaking his head a little, still taken aback despite knowing how deep their brotherhood ran and deeply grateful for the support, Chibs glanced from his left to his right, at his silent VP and his sergeant. "Boys?"

Tig looked around, surprise in his piercing blue eyes. "Oh, you were never going anywhere without me and Hap," he shrugged, as Happy nodded in agreement like it should have been obvious. "Sorry, brother, did that need saying? I didn't know that needed saying."

Chibs reached out and clapped each of them on the shoulder, his hand squeezing in wordless thanks as he took a second to gather himself.

"Right then," he tried, clearing his throat. "Seth's outside, so I'm gonna bring him in. I told him to find out everything he could from Eden's bosses and the cops. Details o' her and Desi's last shout before they went off grid – location, who made the call, everything. We'll see what he has to say and go from there."

"We'll find her, bro," Bug said firmly. "And we'll bring her home. Where she belongs."

"I love you boys," Chibs said, managing the ghost of a smile for them before he brought down the gavel on the table to mark the official end of their session. "Thank you."

* * *

Striding out into the clubhouse, Chibs could see Seth sat at a table by the bar, peeling the label off an only half-finished bottle of beer and shredding it into tiny pieces in his distraction. He was intercepted before he could get to him though.

"I want in."

Charlie's face was set determinedly, his brown eyes hard. He seemed to have aged even in the mere days since his mother's death, something of his usual boyishness lost in a way that was sad to see.

"Listen, son …"

"No, _you_ listen," the prospect snapped. "You might be able to just push her away, but Eden's my friend and if she's in trouble, I want to help. I'm not a fucking kid!"

"No, you're a pain in the bloody hole, is what you are," Chibs sighed, but there was no malice in his voice and he reached out to ruffle the young man's hair, giving his head what he saw as a much-needed wobble in the process. "Get Wheels and get your arse in church then. And, Charlie? Take that tone wi' me again, lad, and I'll prove you ain't too big for me to tan your damn hide."

Seth got to his feet as the president joined him, the two men shaking hands warmly as Chibs motioned for him to follow him through to the club's inner sanctuary.

"What was that about with Charlie?"

"The boy just wants to help," Chibs said. "As does my whole club. For you and what you've done for us in the past, but also for Eden. For my old lady. If she'll have me back."

Seth wiped a hand over his face as he considered that. "Can't be much more of a risk than the shit she's gotten into without you," he grimaced. "I ain't gonna stand in your way."

"For what it's worth, I do know I've got a lot o' making up to do."

"You're lucky Eden ain't the unforgiving type. Hell, the amount of second chances she gave that prick Shane …"

The biker frowned at that. "This Shane … You told me he's dangerous. Manipulative. Gets in people's heads. You think he might go further than that? I mean, I know he was still trying to contact Eden a wee while back. That was why I had her change her number."

"I know," Seth nodded. "She told me. I dunno, man. I mean, I wouldn't rule anything out when it comes to that asshole. But at the same time … Even he's bound to see he couldn't just take Eden, Desi and an entire freaking ambulance without sparking a major investigation. And he likes his nice respectable reputation too much to jeopardise it with something like this. He wouldn't risk the fall-out, not even for Eden. Because we are gonna find them, right? I mean, they can't just disappear. Not forever."

Chibs, knowing all too painfully well that wasn't true, said nothing.


	35. Chapter 35

**Thirty-Five**

"Have you completely lost your fucking mind?" Archie seethed, through teeth gritted in agony as the initial shock started to wear off and he became more and more aware of the painful burns marring one side of his face. "You cut the club out, went behind our backs!"

"I thought you weren't down with the whole meth thing in the fucking first place," Mack shot back, angered at finding himself in the firing line – mostly because he knew deep down that he deserved it. "Make up your goddamn mind, man."

"I didn't stand in your way, did I?"

"Nah, you just sat on the fence as usual. You pull that stunt so often I'm surprised you ain't got splinters in your fucking ass."

"At least I ain't trying to get us all killed!" Archie shouted, gesturing furiously to the carnage around them. "Look at this shit, Mack – look at it! Johnny could bleed out, we're sitting on a blown-up meth lab and a couple of dead tweakers if the cops roll up, and if that wasn't bad enough, you drag in a couple of medics. What are you gonna do – hold them hostage? Did you think no one would notice? Oh, and just to really top it all off, one of them's tied to the Sons of fucking Anarchy, you brainless asshole!"

The under-pressure sergeant wasn't entirely lacking in awareness. He knew they were in deep shit and he even knew most of it was his fault. But his instinct for self-preservation was too strong and he jumped on the one part he felt he couldn't have foreseen and wasn't anywhere near as worried about as the rest. He always had hated being criticised, so he rounded on his VP with his hackles well and truly up.

"Like I could have known she'd be the one to turn up!" he declared. "And so fucking what if she's spread her legs for some washed-up biker twice her age? The amount of bitches through that revolving door, desperate for some kinda thrill, I doubt any of them last more than a couple of weeks."

"She's the president's old lady, dumbass …" Archie sighed, running out of energy to argue as he slumped back against the wall to watch the two paramedics try to help Johnny.

"Don't make her more than another piece of pussy," Mack muttered.

* * *

He knew he needed to stay calm, clear-headed. That's how he would have counselled Jax, how he _had_ counselled Jax every time the shit inevitably hit the fan. He tried to be the strong one, ready to step up, do what was needed – but in line with the club mantra. Brains before bullets.

They'd lost sight of that a time or two.

And Christ knows he wanted to lose sight of it now. Because every possible scenario racing through his mind, haunting him, was more chilling than the last and the thought of Eden being caught up in any one of them made his stomach lurch and his fists clench. If anything happened to her …

He'd wipe whoever was responsible off the face of the goddamn earth. And they'd beg him to do it, in the end.

"You good, brother?" Tig asked, a hand coming to land on his shoulder.

"Huh? Oh, aye …" Chibs sighed, less than convincingly. "How's Seth holding up?"

"Pacing a hole in the fucking floor. Thought about putting a brush in his hand and at least getting some use outta him …"

The ringing of a cell phone interrupted them and Chibs glanced at it impatiently, only for his eyes to widen when he saw the name on the screen and he snatched it up from the table to answer it sharply. "Eden?"

It did cross his mind that she may not be the one in possession of her phone, but even as he braced himself for bitter disappointment, her voice reached him from the other end of the line. It was only a soft, trembling whisper, but it was undeniably her just the same.

"Filip … I haven't got long …"

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he had feared he wouldn't get the chance to tell her, but even now he realised there wasn't time. Not when he still had to find a way to get her back in his arms.

"Eden, where are you, darlin'? What's happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm … I'm okay. Desi too," she whispered hastily. "We're with that guy who smashed up the car at the garage – we just answered a call-out, but he pulled a gun on us. Filip, he's one of-"

"The War Boys," Chibs supplied, through clenched teeth. "I'll fucking kill him."

"He's not stable. I dunno what he might do."

"Hey, listen to me," the biker said firmly, hating to hear the fear in her voice. "I'm coming to get you, okay? I know I've let you down, sweetheart, but trust me – it's gonna be okay. Where are you?"

"I dunno. Some house, I think they were cooking meth here. I don't know the area – it's pretty remote."

Chibs closed his eyes at that, realising the extent of the danger as all the shit they'd been trying to deal with seemed to converge in one monumental clusterfuck. "Shit … Okay, think, darlin'. Your last shout – did you make it to the location you were given?"

"More or less. We spotted a bike by the side of the road up ahead and figured that was our patient. But it was a trap. He needed us to treat a couple of his guys. There's been some kind of explosion or something here. They're in pretty bad shape."

"Fuck them," Chibs growled. "You're my only concern. Did you drive the ambulance to where you are now?"

"Uh, yeah. We turned off right, headed into the woods. The roads are barely more than tracks in places and I lost track of the turn-offs, but we drove for maybe, I dunno, a half-hour? Maybe less, maybe it just felt longer with a fucking gun to my head …"

"Jesus Christ," he ground out, picturing it only too well, even as her breath seemed to hitch at the memory and he longed to be able to pull her close and keep her safe in his embrace.

He'd had more than a few guns levelled at him in his time, but even he had been shaken a time or two, like when he'd been forced to drive that greasy fucker Frankie Diamonds off following his betrayal of the club. He'd been convinced that was definitely time up for him, especially when he'd ended up on his knees with the muzzle of the gun pressed against that spot at the back of his head. He could still remember how his heart had raced, sweat breaking on his skin, regret for everything he'd loved and lost threatening to overwhelm him. He loathed the thought of the woman he loved having to endure even a single second of that.

"Filip, I'm scared," Eden whispered, her wavering voice so soft in his ear.

"I know, baby, I know," he said tightly, gripping the phone as if it could somehow keep her closer. "But you just gotta stay strong a wee bit longer for me, okay? I'm gonna find you, I'm gonna bring you home. Eden, I-"

The shout full of rage startled him, only for her cry of pain and fear to seem to make his heart skip a beat. He could only assume she had been caught red-handed with her phone.

"Eden!" Chibs yelled in alarm, even as Tig started to swear violently as he too caught on to what must have happened. "Eden, talk to me … Don't you hurt her, you fucking bastard – if you hurt her, I swear on all that's holy, I will tear you limb from fucking limb. There'll be nothing left o' your motherfucking club when I'm done!"

The line went dead.

"_Fuuuuuuck!_" Chibs roared, hurling the phone at the wall hard enough to smash it into useless pieces, but Tig didn't even have a chance to try to calm him down before the door of the club's inner sanctuary burst open and Seth flew into the room, shaking off Bug and even the burlier Knox like they were nothing.

"What the fuck was that?" he demanded breathlessly. "You were yelling Eden's name – what the fuck was that? What's happened?"

"Sorry, boss," Bug interjected. "We tried to keep him out, but …"

"But the dude's a fucking beast," Knox glowered, touching a hand to where he'd taken an elbow in the face. He looked like he didn't quite know whether to be furious or impressed. "You wanna slow your roll, pal – we're all supposed to be on the same side here."

"Chibs, just tell me, is she okay?" Seth all but begged, ignoring everyone else and training his gaze on the equally distraught president. "Oh, shit …"

"Hey!" Tig tried. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. From what I heard, we don't know anything other than this prick's pissed she managed to make a call. Unless he's totally suicidal, he's gotta know it ain't in his interest to lay a hand on her. She's more valuable as a hostage than … Whatever. Look, we gotta focus on what she said about their location – we know a little more now and, Bug, you got the details of the call-out, so we head out there, yeah? Am I talking to myself here? We go get her, _yeah?_"

Chibs cleared his throat and took a deep breath, his brown eyes fixed on Seth as he held out a hand to him. "Yeah."

After a long pause, Seth's shoulders sagged and he clasped the outstretched hand. "Yeah."

Tig nodded in approval. "Then let's fucking go."

* * *

"You fucking whore!" Mack all but screamed, practically vibrating with fury as he grabbed Eden by the hair and dragged her from the spot she'd been crouched in to make the call.

"You're _hurting_ me …" she cried, clawing at his hand and trying to do what she could to ease the burning pain of her scalp.

"You think I give a fuck? Bitch, I ain't even started," he seethed, hurling her into the corner where she hit the wall and slumped to the floor, curling up to try to protect herself as he aimed a vicious kick at her ribs that made her yelp in fresh agony. "Who'd you call, huh? Who'd you call? The cops? Telford? Gimme that!"

Bringing his boot down on her hand, even as she tried to clutch the phone tighter, he ground her fingers underfoot until she sobbed and let go her hold.

"Telford," he confirmed, his jaw tight. "_Shit_."

"I … I didn't s-say anything," Eden ground out, her injured hand cradled to her chest and her other arm wrapped around her aching ribs, her bedraggled hair falling over her face. "I didn't get the chance."

"Like I'd believe a word that comes outta your devious mouth. You bitches are all the damn same," Mack said, dropping the phone on the floor and crushing it under his boot, just like her fingers. "Now, let's see what else you're hiding in those ugly-ass overalls ..."

Her eyes widened in alarm at that. "What? No, nothing, I swear. Please, _don't._"

The biker leered down at her, his eyes wild. "Way I see it, you ain't in a position to be asking me jack-shit. On your fucking feet."

She could only try to curl up tighter in the corner, but his size and strength were no match for her and he fisted his hands in the front of her uniform to haul her upright, then twisted his grip and ripped open the poppers.

"What's the matter, darlin'?" he drawled. "I thought any bitch of the Sons would like it rough …"

Eden could only turn her head away, tears slipping down her cheeks as his lips curled into a cruel smile.


	36. Chapter 36

**Thirty-Six**

"Eden?"

Desi had glanced up from trying to deal with the worst of Archie's burns to see his partner stumbling towards him, followed by the gun-wielding biker who had started all this. Her name died on his lips when he saw the state she was in.

He knew she'd already been struck in the face once, but from the extent of the bruising, he suspected it hadn't been the last time. And given how she was holding herself, it seemed unlikely that the violence against her had stopped there. Worse than even that though, the tears on her cheeks were at odds with the hard, haunted look in her eyes and, taking in her torn uniform, Desi swallowed hard.

"What. Did. You. Do?"

But it wasn't the paramedic who spoke, his voice tight with shock and barely contained anger. It was Archie.

Wrenching away from the admittedly stalled effort to treat him, the biker surged to his feet and rounded on his seemingly unrepentant club brother.

"What did you do to her? Who the fuck do you think we _are?_" the VP demanded, almost overwhelmed by fury and despair, his hands gripping Mack's cut to slam him into the nearest wall.

That face inches from his, marred by livid burns and twisted with rage, made even Mack – caught off-guard as he was – recoil and Archie doubled down on his attack, pulling him away from the wall only to slam him back into it again, the back of his head thudding off the bare brick.

He quickly recovered though, lunging forward to sink his forehead into that of his supposed comrade and sending him reeling from the impact with a howl of fresh pain.

Taken aback by the turn of events, Desi shifted his focus from the two warring bikers back to the main source of his worry, reaching out to pull Eden closer.

"Eden-"

"Don't," she managed softly, her gaze avoiding his. "Just … don't."

* * *

Approaching his president with a burner phone clamped to his ear, Tig let his gaze drift towards the ambulance seemingly abandoned outside the run-down house they'd found in a clearing in the woods a fair distance from where they'd left Charlie idling behind the wheel of their unmarked van.

The prospect, despite everything he'd been through, had been desperate to be involved. So he'd been tasked with making sure Seth stayed in the van like he'd finally given in and agreed. It was hard to say which of them was least happy with the arrangement. But Chibs had shut down any argument with a steely resolve. No way in hell was he getting Eden back just to have to tell her he'd let her brother put himself in the line of fire – or at risk of heading back to jail. Asking her to learn to accept his lifestyle was one thing. Extending it to her family was entirely another.

Seth, of course, was furious. First at being left behind and then being assigned a babysitter, especially one young enough to be his kid. Chibs didn't give a fuck though. It didn't matter how big and tough the former boxer was, he was still a civilian. Charlie, green as he might be, was carrying a gun and knew how to use it. Better furious than dead.

"Hap says that shitty bar they hang out at's dead, apart from patches," Tig said, his voice low. "No sign of Johnny, that VP of his, or Rockwell. How do you wanna play this, brother?"

Chibs stared off into the darkening dusk, his eyes narrowed as he mulled over his options. He hadn't been sure what he'd been thinking when he split his resources, sending his sergeant to lead a contingent of Sons to the known War Boys base and taking his VP, Knox, Bug, TO, Charlie and Seth to track down Eden. He knew now.

"They wait for my orders," he said finally. "And if I give the go-ahead, everyone in there gets one chance to take off the cut and walk away. What happens after that depends on what happens here. If she's …"

The Scotsman trailed off helplessly, images real and imagined assaulting his racing mind. Aoife, tucked up in his bed one minute and trailed terrified into the street the next. Eden, chatting and laughing in the clubhouse versus driving with a gun to her head. Aoife, who also knew what it felt like to be held at gunpoint, on her knees in the dirt and braced for the bullet that would end her life. Eden, slumped on that floor inside that goddamn cook house in a growing pool of blood. He closed his eyes, his own blood seeming to turn to ice in his veins at that very thought.

"If she's hurt …" Chibs ground out, his fists clenched. "Or worse ..."

Tig clapped him on the shoulder in understanding, not needing him to say any more and about to turn away to talk to Happy.

"Tig? Whatever happens, Rockwell's _mine._"

"Absolutely, brother."

That much was a given.

* * *

Breathing heavily, Mack straightened up and dashed sweat from his brow with an arm, leaving Archie groaning and beaten half-unconscious on the floor.

"Fuck this," he snapped. "We're getting the fuck outta here. You two, get Johnny into the ambulance …"

Desi's eyes widened at that. "Are you crazy? If you take him anywhere other than a hospital, he'll bleed out!"

"I'm getting seriously sick of people questioning me," the biker seethed. "Now, fucking _move!_"

"We can't both leave him," Eden said, either unwilling or unable to even look at him. "One of us needs to stay here and one of us needs to go get the gurney. I'll go-"

"No," Mack said, immediately suspicious. "You stay right here with me. Let him go. And you, trying taking off and I promise you I'll take it out on her."

Desi tried to argue, hating the thought of leaving his partner to all intents and purposes alone with the volatile biker, but she shot him a look that seemed to plead with him not to make things worse for them.

"Just go, Desi," she said softly. "We can't move him without the gurney. We need something to immobilise him, right?"

Her fellow paramedic just about caught the look on her face when she glanced up at him and whatever he was about to say was lost when he simply nodded. "Right," he echoed. "Immobilise him. On it."

"I ain't kidding, man," Mack warned, watching him head for the door. "Try anything and she'll regret it."

Desi, his stomach churning, didn't doubt it for a second.

* * *

Climbing into the back of the abandoned ambulance, Eden's words seeming to play on a loop in his head, Desi checked over his shoulder and then started rifling through drawers, trying to find what he was looking for.

Hugely conscious of how long he was taking, he knew his approach was haphazard and desperation wasn't exactly helping. But, just as he was about to give up, his fingers closed on exactly what he needed – a syringe loaded with a heavy duty tranquiliser used on violent patients in the throws of a bad trip. Something to immobilise Mack instead of their patient, who was growing increasingly weak without any added assistance.

The hand that snaked from out of nowhere to cover his mouth almost made his heart stop.

"Shhh," came the warning hiss, before the hand was slowly removed and he was turned around to stare in disbelief at the two men in front of him – immediately recognising the silver-haired guy his partner had been seeing and his second-in-command.

"If he catches you, he'll hurt Eden," Desi gasped as quietly as he could, trying to recover from the moment of terror that had almost paralysed him when he thought he'd been caught red-handed. "He'll already wonder what's taking me so long."

"Settle down, mate," the thickly-accented president said. "Now, quickly, how many o' them are in there?"

"Three," Desi replied. "The crazy one with a gun who brought us here and two who were already here – they're both badly injured."

"How badly? They still a threat?"

"One of them maybe, if he comes round – the other's too far gone. The president, according to the patch on his leather vest thing like yours."

The two bikers exchanged a look at that.

"And Eden, she okay?"

Desi nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The pause didn't go unnoticed though and the Samcro president's jaw tightened as he pulled his gun from its hiding place, tucked into the waistband of his jeans at his back.

"Stay put."

"But …"

"Not the time to argue," the curly-haired one advised, before hastily following his leader towards the house.

* * *

Just as Desi had feared, Mack was already starting to suspect something was up, given how long it was apparently taking to retrieve the gurney from the ambulance, and had taken to pacing the floor impatiently.

"What the fuck is taking so long, huh?" he demanded. "Why are you two so hellbent on making everything harder than it has to be?"

Despite her fear, Eden bristled at that, given her treatment at his hands, but managed to try to focus on buying Desi whatever time he needed.

"It's harder with one person – normally we'd both-"

"Quiet!" Mack barked, cutting her off to listen intently and then reaching to grab her arm and yank her roughly onto her feet and in front him, leaving the gun in its holster in favour of whipping a knife from his boot and swiftly levelling it at her throat. "Who's there? Show yourself or I'll slit her fucking throat!"

A figure stepped out of the shadows, making Eden's breath catch and her eyes fill with tears in the second they locked on him before her gaze dropped to the floor when she saw how his scarred face twisted furiously at the sight of her. She knew how it must look, her face bruised and bloodied and her clothes torn, and hated the very thought of him seeing her like that. But even more so, she hated that he had put himself squarely in the line of fire just walking into this place, desperately hoping he hadn't underestimated the War Boys sergeant.

"Well, well," Mack declared loudly, the arm he had around her tightening as she tried to shy away from the sharp edge of the blade pressing against her skin. "The president of the Sons of Anarchy himself – I guess I should be honoured."

"You should be putting the knife down and letting the lass go," Chibs said. "Call it damage control."

"Damage control," Mack echoed thoughtfully, pretending to consider before starting to laugh. "_Damage control …_ I think you'll find I'm the one with the upper hand here, asshole. Unless, of course, that supply of easy pussy means this one's expendable …"

The blade pressed a little harder against Eden's throat and she closed her eyes, feeling it bite into skin.

"Stop!" Chibs shouted in horror, wrenching his gun away from its target and raising both hands in surrender.

"Huh, not that expendable after all," Mack noted, his words tinged with surprise as he, knowing all too well how deliberately provocative he was being, pressed a sloppy kiss to Eden's cheek. "Aren't you special, sweetheart? If I'd known, I might have appreciated you a bit more …"

"You … Just let her go and you can walk outta here," Chibs tried, having to fight against every instinct he had to keep from just throwing himself at the bastard who had done God only knows what to his girl and beating the living daylights out of him. The risk to Eden was the only thing holding him back.

"How stupid do you think I am?" Mack scoffed. "I let her go and you'll put a bullet in my head. Nah, I'm leaving, but she's coming with me. What can I say? We've … bonded. Now, drop the gun and kick it away. Both of you. I know you've got one of your men behind me."

"Do as he says, Tig," Chibs said, dropping his weapon and seeing his VP step out of the shadows, having snuck in through the back door to come up behind their target.

"But, boss-"

"Just fucking do it!"

There was a clatter as a second gun fell to the floor and Mack was still laughing when Eden twisted unexpectedly in his grasp, slamming her elbow into his gut without warning and then her knee into his crotch before tearing herself away from him as he failed to stop himself doubling over in agony.

"_You fucking BIIIIITCH!_" he howled, blindly swinging the knife he had somehow managed to keep a hold of despite his obvious pain.

He was knocked to the floor just as the blade sank into flesh.


	37. Chapter 37

**Thirty-Seven**

In a split second, all hell broke loose.

Eden had just enough time to register Tig dashing to try to stop Archie taking off when Chibs seized his chance the moment that lethal-looking blade was away from her throat. Her captor - still howling in agony from her unexpected assault on him - was tackled off his feet, but she didn't get far enough away to avoid Mack grabbing at her, managing to catch her off-balance. And all three of them crashed to the floor in a tangle of bodies, a grunt of pain registering as her head cracked off the well-trodden wood and she saw stars.

Immediately trying to shake off her daze, the paramedic tried to push herself to sit up, her body still aching from her earlier rough treatment at the hands of the War Boys sergeant. Her warning shout came even as Chibs also clocked Mack going for the knife he had dropped in all the confusion, landing a punch to his face and buying himself enough time to kick the blade out of reach.

"_Bastard_," Mack spat, lashing out with his fists and somehow ending up on top of his target, pinning him down as his hands went for his throat in an effort to crush his windpipe.

"Filip!" Eden cried out in alarm, watching wide-eyed as he struggled furiously to get free, choking under the pressure of that relentless grip.

"Not so fucking … tough now, are ya, old man?" Mack goaded his prey, between gritted teeth. "No wonder your little bitch needed … a tune-up …"

As much as that sparked fresh fury in the older biker, Chibs was clearly weakening and his heart sank with the realisation of the true source of the pain sapping his strength. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, he was beginning to fear that all he had achieved was forcing the woman he loved to watch him die before being left to whatever godforsaken fate was intended for her.

"Get off him, you piece of shit!" Eden tried, her fists raining blows on the War Boys sergeant, between trying to pull him off his target. "Stop, please, stop!"

It only served to fuel Mack's rage though, finally distracting him enough that he let up his hold just enough to deliver a hard punch to the face of the young woman, knocking her to the ground. That alone was petrol on flames to Chibs and he rallied enough to get more than a few brutal punches in himself.

"You fucking scummy _bastard_," the Scotsman snarled. "Laying your fucking hands on her – I'll bloody gut ya!"

"Try it," Mack challenged him, breathing hard as he managed to kick Chibs' legs out from under him and then he had him by the throat again.

There was a dark look of something close to glee in Mack's eyes as he too realised just how badly injured the Samcro president was and he shifted to use his knee to put pressure on the source of his pain, dragging a howl from the older biker.

A hand closed around the discarded knife.

"Let's see who's gutting who …" Mack grinned.

This time, it was no accident when the blade plunged into flesh.

* * *

"Oh my god …" Eden managed faintly. "Oh my god … Oh shit, no …"

The blood-soaked knife fell to the floor with a clatter as she stood rooted to the spot in horror, trembling as shock and disbelief took hold.

"Jesus Christ," Chibs groaned, struggling out from beneath the dead weight of the other biker and dragging himself slowly to his feet, dashing blood from his nose with one arm and keeping the other wrapped around his abdomen. "Jesus fucking Christ."

"I … I just wanted to stop h-him …" Eden whimpered. "I didn't mean … Is he …? Oh my god, I killed him! I killed him, Filip, I didn't mean to, I just …"

He stumbled towards her, hating to see the distress etched so deeply across her pale face and in her wide eyes and the torn uniform that suggested things he couldn't even bear to think about, gathering her into his arms and shielding her from the gore that had her so transfixed. He was more than a little stunned himself to realise his girl – his sweet, caring girl – had stuck that vicious blade right in Mack's neck. The bastard hadn't stood a chance, choking on the blood that gargled up in his throat, not that Chibs gave a shit about that. His only concern was for the clearly traumatised Eden.

"My wee love," he choked out, his voice husky as sorrow, anger and regret battled for a place on his scarred face and he cradled her to his chest, realising too late that he was only getting more blood – his and Mack's – on her. "You saved my life, my darlin', and you're safe now – that's all that matters. You hear me? That's all that matters."

"But I _killed_ h-him!" she sobbed, trying to pull away from him without even really seeming to know what she was doing. "I-I'll have to tell the p-police, I'll … I'll go to _prison!_"

"_Never_," Chibs said firmly, taking her bruised face in his hands and pulling back just enough to look into those distraught green eyes. "Never, ever am I gonna let that happen. Eden, listen to me – _listen_. It was self-defence, love. That mad bastard would have killed both o' us. You did what you had to do and I'm so fucking proud o' you. But we get our story straight, just in case, yeah? Because this was all me. No, no arguments, sweetheart. I told you before there'd be times where you'd have to trust my decisions. This is one o' those times. _Trust_ _me_."

Eden could only shake her head. "Seth went to prison because of me," she wept, practically pleading with him to understand. "I can't have that happen to you too. This is _my_ fault!"

"Oh, my darlin'," he sighed, his hand caressing her cheek gently as he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. "I promise you I ain't going inside, not for this. Self-defence, remember?"

"W-what if they don't believe that?"

"They will," Chibs said grimly, reluctantly pulling his cut aside to reveal the growing bloodstain darkening his shirt. "Because that fucker got me first."

* * *

Eden's eyes widened in fresh shock at the sight of the blood oozing between Chibs' ringed fingers as he pressed a hand over the wound he had picked up right when he had first tackled Mack to the ground.

"No …" she breathed. "No, no, no, oh, please, no!"

"Probably looks worse than it is," he tried ruefully, even as he grimaced in pain and sagged against her, the adrenaline that had kept him going already starting to fade. "Stings like a bastard though."

"Filip!"

His name turned into a little sob as she tried to ease him down onto the floor, frantically pushing aside his cut and ripping his shirt open to try to get a better look, finding the wound clean but worryingly deep and bleeding heavily. She couldn't seem to keep from crying no matter how much she tried to call upon all her experience as a medic. That professional detachment just wouldn't come though. "Oh god … Desi? Desi! Desi, _help!_"

Hearing his partner's distressed screams, Desi – in the process of telling TO everything he knew about what had happened, both of them oblivious to the extent of the carnage that had unfolded inside – simply bolted for the house with the biker on his heels.

"Eden? Oh, shit," he exclaimed. "What the hell happened?"

"He's been stabbed," Eden managed, tears pouring down her face as she tried to keep pressure on the wound. "Oh god, he's been stabbed and it's pretty bad."

"Don't cry, lass," Chibs murmured weakly, reaching towards her with a blood-stained hand. "I … fuckin' hate makin' ya cry …"

"Then you need to stay with me, you hear me?" she told him, even as his hand fell back down onto his chest and his eyes started to drift closed. "Filip!"

"Holy fuck, Chibs!" Tig swore in alarm, striding back in followed by Knox and Bug, breathless after their fruitless efforts to chase down Archie only to have lost him among the trees.

"What can we do?" Knox demanded, equally horrified to see the Samcro president bleeding on the floor.

It was Desi who spoke up, with Eden too focused on the man she loved to even really hear them.

"Go to the ambulance – we've used a lot of the pressure dressings already, but see what you can find. But what he really needs is a hospital. And fast."

Tig glanced around at his brothers and then, as Knox took off in search of supplies, whipped his phone out of his pocket and started dialling.

"Who you calling?" TO demanded.

"Fucking 911," the VP snapped. "We ain't in the frame for any of this shit and I ain't standing here with my thumb up my ass while he ups and dies on me too. You better hear me, you Scottish bastard - after everything we've been through, you don't get to do that to me!"

"Love you too, Tiggy," Chibs said weakly, his wry smile fading as his head rolled weakly to the side and he gazed longingly up at Eden. "My angel," he slurred, barely managing to do more than mouth the words. "I love you … I'm s-sorry … for everythin'."

Having let Desi take over trying to stem the bleeding, Eden shook her head as she clung to the biker's hand, leaning down to kiss him with tears coursing down her cheeks.

"Please don't leave me," she begged him, while Tig paced the floor beside them like a caged animal, raking his hands through his curly hair like he might tear it out in helpless frustration. "I need you."

A phone ringing cut through the increasingly laboured sound of Chibs' breathing.

"Hap," Tig realised, glancing from the screen to his closest brother as he lay almost lifelessly, half cradled in Eden's arms. His blue eyes hardened, knowing their sergeant was expecting instructions.

"Filip, please …" Eden sobbed, as Desi swore and redoubled his efforts, adding the wadded shirt Bug had stripped off to the dressing Knox had retrieved to try to put as much pressure as he could on the wound.

Tig's mind was made up. For what one of their number dared do … Fuck the War Boys and anyone associated with them. But not right now. Right now, they had more pressing concerns.

"Get outta there and get to St Thomas," he told Happy grimly. "We're coming in."

Tig hung up, taking a deep breath as he wondered for a second whether he had done the right thing. But when he knelt beside a devastated Eden, laying a hand on her shoulder to try to comfort her, he was sure he had.

"Please, Filip," she pleaded with his beloved brother, her fingers running gently through his hair. "Please stay with me. I love you - I love you so much."

That was the last thing Chibs heard.


	38. Chapter 38

**Thirty-Eight**

The wail of sirens was the final straw.

"Fuck this," Seth growled, jumping out of the van before Charlie could even make a move to stop him and taking off in the direction the others had gone.

"Oh shit," the prospect sighed, sensing that he might actually be first in the firing line if anything happened to his charge and quickly scrambling after him.

But while half of him was panicking at having failed to carry out his orders to keep Seth well away from whatever the hell was going on, the other half understood perfectly his frustration at being cut out of the loop – he'd wanted to help too and Eden was just his friend, not his blood. Still, he knew the others had a point that it would hardly help Eden to know her brother had been caught in the crossfire of whatever the hell was going on. The two of them were so close. It made him wish he knew what that was like not to be an only child.

"Seth, wait!" Charlie tried, realising his hopes of catching up weren't as good as he'd assumed. "Shit …"

But for Seth, it was only crashing into the clearing in time to see a body being brought out of some shitty little house on a gurney covered with a sheet that brought him skidding to a halt, frozen in dismay at the thought that he was too late. It felt like someone had curled their fingers around his heart and squeezed.

So the relief he felt when he caught an unmistakable glimpse of his sister by the side of another gurney, Tig's arm around her shoulders, was almost enough to knock him off his feet.

"Eden!" the former boxer shouted, running towards her with Charlie on his heels, barely registering all the chaos and commotion around them as more and more sirens filled the air.

"I tried to … keep him … in the van …" Charlie panted, breathless and bracing his hands on his knees and gulping in air. "You're really fucking fast … for a big guy … Shit, is that Chibs?!"

But, in the first instance, Seth only had room to process that his sister was in front of him and apparently in one piece – one bruised, bloodied, weeping piece – and he swept her into his arms, loosening his hold just a little when she couldn't hold back a whimper of pain.

"Sorry, kiddo, sorry," he managed, pressing a kiss to her head when her arms wrapped around him and she hugged him tightly. "Fuck, Eden, you scared the shit outta me!"

"I'm s-sorry," she managed, her words muffled against his shoulder.

"Hey, no, it's okay," he soothed, stroking the tangles of her hair. "It's all okay now – you're safe. Are you hurt? What the hell happened? We need to get you checked out …"

She shook her head, trying to sniff back tears as she pulled away. "I need to go with Filip. I can't leave him."

The rest of what was going on only started to register with Seth and he looked around in disbelief at the carnage, police and paramedics seeming to swarm everywhere.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed. "Jesus fucking Christ."

* * *

Sat on an examination bed in a quiet side room, twisting a tissue in her hands, Eden couldn't seem to stop the tears from falling. She'd had to make do for now with pulling on a clean pair of scrubs in place of her torn and blood-soaked uniform, but she couldn't wait to simply throw out everything she'd been wearing that day, right down to her underwear, and get under the spray of the hottest shower she could stand. Although it felt like scrubbing for a week wouldn't be enough to rid herself of every trace of that place and what had happened.

It all just seemed surreal.

Mack was dead. Archie was in the wind. Johnny was in surgery, likely to lose a leg despite their efforts. She didn't even know if the rest of the War Boys knew what had befallen their leadership yet. And if they did, would they be sat in hospital waiting chairs or pacing the corridors like the Sons keeping vigil for their president? Somehow, she doubted it.

No one could tell her anything yet. She hadn't been allowed to stay with Chibs, with everyone instead insisting she should use the time to look after herself, so she could be there when he was finally clear of surgery. She knew they meant well, knew there was logic in what they were saying, but she still resented it as a distraction. She was _fine_.

Okay, fine was a stretch, but there was nothing wrong with her that a doctor could do much for. Concussion, fractured cheekbone, badly bruised ribs, shock. Nothing you could exactly put a band-aid on.

She looked up at the opening of the door, glancing away again when the doctor – thankfully no one she really knew – turned on one of those soft, sympathetic smiles.

"So is that it? Can I go?" Eden asked.

The doctor paused and then drew up a chair in a way that immediately unsettled her reluctant patient. That couldn't mean anything good. Did she have news about Chibs? Bad news? Or was she going to push her into agreeing to go for counselling or some shit like that? Because the last thing Eden wanted right now was to talk about anything that had happened in that hellhole.

"Eden," Dr Jardesh began gently, her dark eyes kind behind her glasses. "Given that most people who've been through an ordeal like yours would, understandably, have concerns and yet you haven't mentioned anything … I'm going to assume you didn't know you were pregnant. Is that right?"

Startled into lifting her head to stare at the doctor, the stunned silence probably spoke volumes in itself.

"What? No, that … That can't be right," Eden managed finally.

"Really?" the doctor said, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow. "_Can't?_ Because you wouldn't be the first patient to try the whole immaculate conception line on me, but you would be the first medical professional …"

"But I haven't ... I mean, it's been …"

"Nearly three months?" Dr Jardesh suggested wryly. "Yes, that did bring me back to the whole medical professional thing. I mean, not noticing for a few weeks I can understand, but …"

"Three _months_?!"

But even as her mind reeled, realisation dawned and Eden knew exactly. Not three months. More like eleven weeks. Or ten weeks and five days, to be precise. And she could be precise because they'd almost always been careful, for reasons she'd never examined too closely, but that was exactly when all thoughts of precautions had fled in the face of warring emotions and ...

Another thought struck Eden. "Were. You said _were_ pregnant-"

"Oh, no, no, no," the doctor immediately cut in. "Semantics, I can assure you. You _are_ pregnant. And I knew that if you had known you were, you'd have wanted answers immediately as to whether the baby had been harmed during your ordeal. Now, at this stage, we don't believe so, but obviously we're going to want to keep a close eye on you for the moment and get you caught up to where you should be with your prenatal care. I'm going to fast-track a scan, so we can check … Sorry, I guess this is a lot to take in. I can give you some time to process everything. Can I ask, purely to understand the support you have in place, is the father in the picture?"

Fresh tears welled up in the overwhelmed young woman's eyes.

"It's … complicated," she managed, even as she broke down in overwrought sobs.

* * *

Sinking down on the couch in the relatives' room they'd been herded into out of the way, Tig wiped a hand over his face as he leaned back against the cushions. "I sent the rest of the guys home for now," he said wearily. "We're going on lockdown until we figure out where the hell this whole mess leaves us."

"Do you think the War Boys will try anything?" Lyla asked anxiously, pulling the sleeves of her top down over her hands, but he could only shrug in response.

"Who the fuck even knows?" he sighed. "Don't worry, doll. I sent Montez to check in with your mom and the kids. He'll stick around there as long as we need him too – it's probably safer than even the clubhouse. Out of the way, you know? Charlie's with Seth, waiting for Eden to get checked out, and me, Hap and Knox are gonna stay here at least until there's news. We'll worry about next moves after that."

"We need to get word to Fiona. Don't look at me like that. You know I'm Team Eden in this. But … technically, she is still his wife. And then there's Kerri to think about."

"Shit," Tig said, getting up again to pace the floor. "No, you're right, you're right. I'll go check again if there's any news and then I'll call Belfast."

Lyla watched him leave, followed by Happy, realising just how agitated the VP was and knowing how hard it must be for him to be left feeling so helpless after everything the club had already been through. He was terrified of losing Chibs too. They all were.

Feeling Knox's eyes on her from across the room, she looked up and tried to keep her own emotions in check, but he pushed away from where he'd been leaning against the wall and came to take Tig's seat beside her. Without a word, the biker held out his hand with a forced little smile and she found herself placing her own in it, feeling him give her fingers a little reassuring squeeze.

"They don't come much tougher than Chibs, you know that," he told her.

She nodded, appreciating the effort even if it did little to truly alleviate her worst fears. She knew all too well how cruel the hand life dealt you could be. How unfair.

She knew what it was like to bury a Son.

"Hey," Knox's voice cut through her thoughts, as if he'd been able to read her mind. "Stop. He ain't going anywhere, babe."

"How do you know?" Lyla asked, all too well aware he was just trying to comfort her, but desperate for any kind of reassurance, however tenuous it might be.

"Because I saw what it meant to him to get to Eden back there - he's got too much going for him. No man's gonna up and check out when he's got that to get home to," the biker shrugged, before stopping abruptly, a caught look on his face when he realised exactly what he was saying. "Fuck, Lyla, me and my big mouth," he cringed. "I wasn't thinking about Op … Jesus."

"It's okay," she said quietly. "I know what you meant."

"Nah, Ly, it was stupid and-"

"Knox, it's fine," she insisted, her hand slipping out of his. "Don't worry about it. Listen, I'm gonna go see if I can check in on Eden. I won't be long. If there's news about Chibs, call me the second you hear, okay?"

"But … okay," Knox sighed, even as she headed for the door, waiting until it had closed behind her to rake a sheepish hand through his dark hair and soundly chastise himself. "Nice one, fuckwit. Hey, why stop at the husband? Maybe she's got a dead parent you can insult next. Asshole. Stupid, stupid asshole. Fuck."

* * *

"Eden?"

Thrown to see the usually so together medic in such a distressed state, Charlie couldn't help regretting having seized the opportunity presented when some nurse came looking for her patient's brother while Seth had gone to the bathroom. He'd been so anxious to check that Eden was okay that he hadn't stopped to think he might be intruding and that she might only want her family around.

But it was too late to back out now, as she glanced up at his voice, her eyes red-rimmed and the bruises on her face seeming to stand out even more given how pale she was.

"S-sorry, I think they thought I was Seth," he babbled. "I can go – he'll be back in a second …"

She shook her head though, trying to pull herself together and wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of the scrub top she was wearing. "It's okay. Is there any news about Chibs?"

Charlie shook his head, hesitantly crossing the room to stand awkwardly at the side of the bed she was sat on.

"I need to go see him," Eden said, more to herself than to him, slipping down to stand on wobbly legs, grimacing in pain and making the young prospect step closer in alarm.

"I'm pretty sure you need to stay here," he tried. "You can't see Chibs until he's out of surgery anyway. Please don't, Eden, you're hurt …"

"I have to, I have to see him," she said, her anguish clearer than ever as her face crumpled again tearfully and her visitor just about managed to get his arms up in time for her to collapse into them. "What if I lose him? I can't … I can't do this on my own …"

Feeling completely out of his depth, Charlie floundered for the right thing to say and then simply gave up, remembering how she had held him after his mom and just focusing on trying to now do the same for her.

"I'm so scared, Charlie," Eden whispered, her words muffled into his shoulder.

Truth be told, she was scaring him too, such was her distress. She was supposed to be the one who always knew what to do, what to say. The one who knew it would all be okay in the end, even when it felt like the world was ending. Now her world seemed to be falling in around her and he had no idea how to fix it.

What if she was right to be scared? What if Chibs … He could hardly bear to think about it, not after everything. What if he did die? Eden would obviously be heartbroken and he hated the thought of that, but it wouldn't end there. Even he, as just a lowly prospect, had realised that Chibs was what was holding what was left of the club together. That without him, there was every chance Tig would finally go completely off the rails and Samcro itself would crumble. And he would have absolutely nothing and no one left.

Except Eden.

But she had Seth and her family and Charlie couldn't help fearing that, without Chibs, maybe she wouldn't feel like she had any reason to stay in touch with him.

Even now, she was pulling away, seeming embarrassed by her show of emotion and wiping at her tears again, leaving him stood there feeling horribly out of place.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I shouldn't be here. The nurse meant to get your brother …"

But Eden shrugged that off, dropping her gaze to her hands as she tugged her sleeves down over them. "Guess she missed my big brother, but … maybe brought me my little one instead?" she suggested softly.

Charlie stared at her, making her shift almost shyly.

"I mean, only if you want …"

Despite everything, Charlie couldn't help the little grin that spread over his face. "I always wanted a sister," he told her, guiding her to make her sit back down on the edge of the bed.

"And I never wanted to always be the … the baby," she said, burying her face in her hands as she seemed to struggle to get the word out.

"Eden? What's wrong?" he asked anxiously, at once kicking himself for asking such a stupid question, but also seeming to realise there was more going on than he knew.

Eden could only shake her head helplessly though and Charlie simply wrapped her back up in a worried hug, determined to be there for her no matter what. That's what brothers were for, blood or not.


	39. Chapter 39

**Thirty-Nine**

"It's like this, man – you can stay put, or I can break your legs. What's it gonna be?"

"That your idea o' TLC, Tiggy?" Chibs drawled, from the hospital bed he was being pushed back down on by his VP and with far too much ease for his liking. "Needs work."

Still, he supposed he had just come round from apparently life-saving surgery, so he could maybe cut himself some slack. Or at least he could if he didn't know his girl had just been through hell and was apparently still being treated in some other part of the hospital, making him desperate to go find her and just be there for her. As far as he was concerned, he'd already let her down more than enough for one lifetime.

"I ain't having you overdoing it and keeling over on me," Tig insisted, finally releasing his hold when it seemed he had made his point and Chibs sank back against the plump pillows in defeat. "I will have your back in any fucking thing, brother, but we both know I ain't the one this club needs in charge."

The president, who had taken up the gavel reluctantly enough himself, sighed heavily at that, worry etched on his drawn face. "How's Eden? And I want the truth."

"In one piece," Tig said firmly, trying to shut down any more notions of roaming the hospital to find her. "That's all I know, but that's the main thing for now, ain't it? Look, I know you're gonna want to bring that Rockwell fucker back to life just so you can kill him again, but you need to just focus on healing up and getting the hell outta here. Eden'll be looked after. Knox has gone to find her, let her know you're awake."

"I need to see her for mesel'," Chibs said. "And I don't want her worrying over me. If she ain't allowed in here yet, I need you to make sure she knows I'm all right."

"And are you?" his VP asked sharply, not exactly enjoying yet another reminder of their collective mortality.

Trying to keep a grimace of pain off his face, Chibs subtly pushed the button that would release more pain relief into his system, keeping it hidden by his side. He didn't need them all fretting.

"I'll live," he managed.

"Well, thank Christ for that. Because I may have called Belfast, so someone needs to deal with that banshee wife of yours when she inevitably shows up and it damn sure ain't gonna be me," Tig said, quickly patting Chibs on the shoulder as he delivered that bombshell and then headed for the door. "Doc said I only had a minute. Gotta go."

"Tig!" Chibs tried to protest, groaning both at the flare of discomfort when he tried to sit up again and at the prospect of Fiona showing up right when he was at his weakest and really didn't have the energy for yet another battle of wills. "Son o' a bitch …"

* * *

Sat on the edge of the hospital bed she was supposed to be confined to, having been admitted to be kept under observation for at least twenty-four hours, Eden looked down at the pale blue hospital issue gown and robe she was now wearing and sighed. She was a terrible patient, always had been, even as a kid.

The prospect of a night in hospital, even though they'd found her a tiny side room, didn't exactly fill her with joy – especially when she felt horribly out of the loop and was desperate to just go and see for herself that the man who had stolen her heart was in fact alive and recovering. Tough as nails, they'd all said, and she knew it was true. But the club's history told her with horrifying clarity that no one was immortal. Not even, and perhaps especially not, Samcro presidents.

Her hand drifted hesitantly to her stomach, the slightest of curves that only she could notice starting to swell there and now seeming so glaringly obvious that she cursed herself yet again for her obliviousness. Every detail of the last few months now filled her with fresh guilt and left her cold.

She was a medic, so she knew being pregnant didn't immediately turn her into some fragile, helpless waif. But still … She'd drunk herself stupid. Exposed herself to potential risks at work. And that was before she even got to everything that had happened since Mackenzie Rockwell had pulled a gun on her and Desi.

Her mind clamped down hard on those thoughts though, slamming a door on them before the details started to replay in earnest. But one quiet, persistent voice seemed impossible to ignore and made her stomach lurch.

_You killed him. You killed him. You killed him._

And it may have been in her head, but it wasn't her voice. No, over and over and over, it was Shane's.

* * *

"Knock knock?"

Startled by the voice, Eden's head flew up and her hand left her stomach like she'd been burned, her whole body tense until she realised Lyla had peeked around the door and tried to force a small smile for her.

"Hey, sweetheart," her friend said. "Wasn't sure if you were feeling up to visitors, but I sent Seth and Charlie to clear their heads, so I thought I'd check in …"

"Come in," Eden nodded, gesturing towards the seat not long vacated by Seth. "Any news?"

"Knox just texted to say Chibs is awake and surgery went well – he's on his way to let you know, but since I'm here … Well, now you know. So you're not to worry. He's gonna be okay, Eden."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Eden leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, letting the relief wash over her, fresh tears slipping from beneath her lashes. "Thank god," she whispered. "Oh, thank god."

Full of sympathy for what the other woman was going through, Lyla reached out to pat her arm and then gently pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back soothingly as she started to cry.

"S-sorry," Eden managed finally, pulling away to wipe at her eyes. "I don't know why I'm crying so much. You've been through so much worse. I'm just … all over the place."

"Don't be silly," Lyla scolded lightly. "You've been through hell and you've been worried sick. Of course you're gonna be emotional. But he will be fine. You both will. And then you can focus on putting all this behind you."

But the brunette couldn't seem to keep her face from crumpling again, sparking concern in her visitor.

"Eden? Oh, honey, don't – I know it must have been awful, but it's over. You're safe now."

"I killed someone, Lyla," she whispered, despair in her haunted green eyes.

The former porn star paused at that, but then seemed to steel herself, her hands firm as they gripped the shoulders of the distressed woman in front of her. "Because you had to," she said, giving her a tiny shake. "You hear me? You _had_ to. He would have _killed_ you, Eden. Or Chibs. Or Desi. So you have to get right with this. You defended yourself, protected the man you love. You _survived_."

"But what if the cops don't see it that way? Chibs wants to say it was him, but with his record …"

"Listen to me," Lyla said firmly. "Tig's been dealing with the cops and you do not have to worry on that score. That Rockwell guy wasn't any cleaner than Samcro – was worse actually, because they know he was behind the whole meth problem. He took hostages. Medics who help people. The cops are looking to draw a line under this whole mess as neatly as they can."

Eden tried to take that all in, but she had so much running through her mind. "They're still going to want to talk to me. What do I tell them? The truth?"

"You tell them what Chibs told you to tell them."

"But-"

"No, Eden, no buts. I know a lot has happened and I dunno where you two are at right now, although it's been more obvious to the rest of us than ever that you love the hell outta each other … But if you're gonna be with Chibs again, there are some things you're just gonna have to trust him on."

"It's not about trust – I don't want him in jail," she protested.

"Honey, that's not something he's ever going to be able to promise you," Lyla sighed. "That risk … It just comes with the life. Eden?"

She blew out a breath, having not told anyone her news as she struggled to get her own head around it and with half a notion that Chibs should hear it first. But it was just too much to deal with alone.

"I … I'm pregnant," she blurted out, before she even fully realised she was going to say anything.

Lyla's eyes widened in shock and she opened her mouth, only to close it again, lost for words.

"But you and Chibs haven't … I mean, when?" she frowned, thoroughly thrown by the unexpected development. "Sorry, I know the details are hardly anyone's business …"

"I'm nearly three months gone," Eden clarified. "I'm pretty sure it was the day we broke up."

"Holy shit," Lyla breathed. "How long have you known?"

"Couple of hours?"

"Wow. Okay. Like you needed that kind of mindfuck right now … So, uh, where's your head at with this?"

"I have no idea," Eden shrugged, wiping at the tears still falling. "It's not something we talked about. It's not something I'd even thought about, not really. And Chibs …"

"What?" Lyla pushed gently.

"You know … He's older. Married. Has a kid already. He might not want this."

Lyla cocked her head on one side, considering. "There's thinking you don't want something when it's not even on the table – doesn't mean you don't feel differently when it's right in front of you," she said. "Can I believe he hasn't thought about having more kids? Sure. Can I believe he'd get on board pretty quick if he finds out it's a reality? Absolutely. He's a good man, Eden. No way he wouldn't step up."

"I guess I just don't want him to feel obligated …"

"Well, he should," Lyla insisted. "You didn't knock yourself up. This is his responsibility too."

"I know, I just mean … I don't want it to be the only thing keeping him around. I don't want him to feel trapped."

"I get it," came the reply, even as a little smile spread over Lyla's face. "But, Eden, that man adores you. I think you just need to tell him – and hey, at least in hospital, they'll have a defibrillator on hand!"

Eden managed a reluctant laugh at that, but still shook her head. "I know you're joking, but I don't think the timing's right. He's literally just out of surgery."

"Might be just the pick-me-up he needs," Lyla shrugged.

"Or it might actually give him a damn heart attack," Eden sighed. "Please don't say anything, Ly – not to anyone. I haven't even told Seth yet."

"Of course I won't say anything. Just … don't keep it a secret too long, okay? Believe me, I know from experience how hard that is and it never does any good."

"Okay," Eden said softly, her hand drifting back to her stomach. "Soon, I promise. Now, do me a favour? Help me sneak outta here. I need to see him and I'm going, with or without you."

"I shoulda known you were trouble, Eden Moore," Lyla sighed. "Come on then. But I'm fully blaming you if your brother loses his shit."

"Sounds fair," Eden shrugged.

* * *

Waking with a start, having dozed off again under the influence of all the pain medication and the toll of surgery to repair the stab wound to his abdomen that had apparently nicked his liver, Chibs' gaze fell on the figure sat by his bedside and he reached out, managing a faint smile when she tearfully took his hand.

"Eden," he murmured, taking in the sight of her in a hospital gown and robe. "It's so good to see you, lass, but should you be up and about?"

"I had to see you. I've been so worried," she said, kissing his fingers, before letting them go and allowing him to cup her bruised cheek in his hand.

"Look at you," Chibs sighed, tracing the swelling as gently as he could and with infinite tenderness. "Ah, my poor wee love, I shoulda been there sooner …"

"But you came to find me, that's all that matters," she said, her hand coming to rest on top of his. "I'm okay."

"I know you, darlin', and I know after all the shite that went down, that ain't gonna be the truth …"

Eden considered that for a moment and meeting his warm brown eyes, conceded the point. "I … I keep seeing him. What I did to him. Every time I close my eyes."

"What you did to him?" Chibs frowned. "Eden, sweetheart, what about what _he_ did to you? That bastard only has himself to blame for what went down. It kills me that you had to do that, but only because I knew it would eat at you like this – I'd gi' anything to be able to keep you from that, but I'm so proud o' you. I am. You did what you had to, to protect yoursel', to defend me. You're a fucking warrior, my love, and that piece o' shit ain't worth your tears. Jesus, I need to get out o' this fucking bed and be some fucking use to you …"

That forced her to sniff back her tears and wipe at her eyes again, laying a gentle hand on his chest to stop him in case he really did try to get up. "All I need from you right now is to take it easy and focus on getting better, okay?" she said. "Please. For me."

The worry in her voice proved more effective than anything else at keeping the biker where he was supposed to be, however much he might hate it.

"For you," he conceded, shifting uncomfortably as he lay back against the pillows, his gaze locked on her. "Jesus, I love you, Eden – I dunno what I'd have done if … I've been so fucking stupid, thinking I could gi' you up. Can you ever forgive me for being such a daft aul' bugger?"

"Just don't do it again," she managed at that, with a little laugh through her tears as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I love you. Now, get some rest. We all need you back where you belong."

"Move in wi' me," Chibs said suddenly, catching her off-guard and then cursing himself when he saw the look on her face. "Shite, sorry. Too much? Too soon? I know I ain't exactly much o' a catch right now and I swear I ain't just trying to bag mesel' my own private nurse …"

"Uh, you just … took me by surprise is all," Eden said. "I mean, we never really got round to living together even before. Not properly. I don't think me keeping a few things at the clubhouse really counts."

"I guess I just maybe had a bit o' a wake-up call," Chibs admitted, reaching out to take her hand again and frowning when he noticed the bruising and grazes on her fingers. "Life's too fucking short to waste. I know I don't deserve you, but … No more o' this half in, half out shite. I want you wi' me, by my side. I know my life ain't easy and my past complicates it for both o' us. But you're all I want, lass. Just you."

She smiled shakily at that, something clearly on her mind and on the tip of her tongue, only for it to seem to be pushed aside. "Let's just get you back on your feet first, huh?" she said softly. "Do you need anything?"

Chibs suspected he should push to find out exactly what was going on with her, but part of him was afraid of what he might hear and part of him had to admit he just didn't have the strength yet. But he would, and sooner rather than later. Or so he hoped. He hated feeling weak when he sensed his girl needed him more than she was admitting.

"Wee cuddle'd be nice?" he suggested hopefully.

That drew a small smile, one that seemed to at least chase some of the shadows from her too-pale face.

"I meant like water, maybe some more meds," Eden half scolded. "You'll get me in trouble with the nurses and I don't want to hurt you."

"The only thing you're hurting right now, love, is my pride. The day I can't handle a wee cuddle from a beautiful lass is the day they might as well put me in a goddamn box and shut the lid."

Relenting in the face of that longing gaze, Eden moved to slip onto the bed with him, curling carefully into his uninjured side and laying her head on his chest, fighting back tears of sheer relief as the biker wrapped an arm around her waist and let his other hand gently stroke her hair.

"There now," Chibs murmured, with a little contented sigh. "That's better, isn't it?"

Too emotional to trust herself to speak, she just nodded and let him hold her close, her eyes closing as she tried to push everything else out of her mind in favour of making the most of the stolen moment together.


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's Note: Hey, everyone. I don't usually go in for long notes here, but ... well, it's a pretty crazy time for everyone right now and I just wanted to say that I hope you're all getting by and staying safe. **

**Writing has always been, among other things, a form of escape for me - reading too. So if you're struggling to wrap your head around what's happening across the world or you're just finding self-isolation or social distancing tough and this is a welcome distration, I hope it helps even a tiny bit. If you're worried right now, for yourself, for loved ones, for the future, I am too. I think most of us are. I have to admit I've found it tougher than I even thought I would lately. Usually the prospect of time to just read, write, watch TV or whatever would be bliss. But it's hard not to dwell on the harsh reality of life around the globe right now. I've found it hard to concentrate - I wasn't quite happy with this chapter, but I think it's as good as it'll get right now - and to sleep. I've been classed as a frontline worker (not healthcare) so I'm still working, but feel very fortunate to be in a position to do that from home. I may have to work more, or I may have more time to write, it's hard to say at the minute. I'll certainly need that escapism, if I can get my brain firing on all cylinders. **

**So, whether I post more or less, I'll still be around. It is at least good to be able to stay connected to people online. Stay safe x**

* * *

**Forty**

"You sure this is really what you need right now?"

Eden eyed her brother in the mirror as she paused in trying to disguise her slowly fading bruises with make-up to considered his question. "You were the one who was worried when I stayed on the couch in my pyjamas," she noted wryly, blending in more concealer and then surveying the result with a dissatisfied little grimace.

"Yeah, but a party, at the damn clubhouse of all places …"

"It's not a party," she pointed out. "They're still on alert over the War Boys for a start. But they just want to welcome Chibs back properly."

"He only got out of hospital a few days ago. Pretty sure he shouldn't be drinking either."

"Yeah, like that'd stop him," Eden rolled her eyes, before giving up on the bruises and reaching for a couple of lipsticks to compare the shades and try to choose between them.

"Eden …" Seth sighed, trailing off as he seemed to search for the right words.

"Seth," she echoed, finally turning around to look at him properly. "Stop worrying. Am I in the mood for a party? No. Do I want to be around a lot of people, all staring and whispering and giving me those unintentionally awful sympathetic looks like I'm some kind of fucking invalid? No. I'm only going for Filip's sake. Definitely won't be a wild one. Probably won't even drink. And I'll be as safe there as anywhere."

"You gonna stay the night?"

"You gonna remember you're my brother, not my jailer?" Eden asked, but knowing just how worried he had been over her whole ordeal and with pretty good reason, she kept her voice light, cutting him some slack.

Sure enough, he realised himself that he was over-stepping and nodded reluctantly. "Sorry. Shit, sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he sighed, wiping a hand over his face. "Go. Be safe. Maybe it'll do you good to get out for a bit."

Even she wasn't convinced of that, but she forced a little smile as she stood and faced him expectantly, in ripped blue jeans and a floaty white top with tiny gold flecks and her favourite red stiletto ankle boots. "So, how do I look?"

"Like you went a couple of rounds with Deontay Wilder," Seth said archly, before softening and crossing the room to plant a little kiss on the top of her head. "But still a knockout."

* * *

"She's not here yet," Lyla said finally, having tried to keep up her end of the conversation with the recovering Samcro president, only to realise his attention was well and truly elsewhere. "Listen, I'm not entirely sure she's gonna show, Chibs …"

That at least got him listening, turning back to stare at the little blonde, a frown knitting his brows. "There something I should know?"

"What? Uh, no! I just meant, it's hard after something like that, having to put a brave face on and be around people. Maybe she just needs time?"

"Ain't expecting her to be the life and soul – hell, I ain't exactly feeling it myself," Chibs said, toying with the bottle of beer he'd been half-heartedly nursing. "But she should be wi' people who understand that, people who care about her. She should be wi' me, Ly."

"Well, just be glad she's got Seth," she shrugged. "You've needed to worry about getting your own strength back before you can be any good to anyone else. There's no point rushing into anything and—Oh, heads up, look who just walked in. Damn, how is it fair she still looks like a babe with a busted face, huh? Hey, I'm gonna want to steal her later for a proper catch-up, but right now, you need to go get your girl …"

His head whipped round at that, brown eyes softening when they landed on an unsure Eden hovering by the clubhouse door that was currently being manned by Happy on security detail. Then she spotted him watching her and, suddenly, it was like she was the only person in the room.

"Eden …"

Feeling like a goddamn nervous teenager, the Scotsman got up from his seat and headed towards her, drinking in the sight of her.

"Hey," she said softly, once he was close enough.

"Hey, lass," he managed, before seizing the moment and taking her face in his hands to kiss her deeply, ignoring the cheers and whistles that rang out around the clubhouse as he rested his forehead against hers. "I missed you, my darlin'."

"You only saw me the other day," Eden smiled, but she seemed to know what he meant, her hands settling at his waist as she leaned in for another little kiss. "How you feeling?"

"Better now you're here," Chibs said, gently tilting her face to inspect what he could see of the outward signs of the violence against her. "You? I'd have understood if you wanted to give this the elbow, you know …"

"Not sure I'm great company right now," she admitted ruefully. "But I wanted to see you."

A little smile quirked his lips at that. "Good. You gonna stay, keep an aul' man company?" he asked, his hand caressing her cheek when he saw her hesitation, his gut twisting at the thought that might be the effect of everything Mack might have subjected her to. "Hey, I didn't mean … If you wanna take things slow, I get it, pet. No pressure here, promise. You trust me?"

She nodded at that, her green eyes shining before she blinked back the tears that had welled up and simply wrapped her arms around him, letting him cradle her to his chest.

"I trust you," Eden whispered. "Filip, can we-"

"Yo, Chibs – get your ass over here and tell this fool he's wrong, will ya?" TO hollered from across the clubhouse, waving impatiently to get his president's attention and his input in whatever good-natured row was going on by the bar.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Chibs sighed ruefully. "Ain't exactly the place for a wee bit o' quality time, is it? Listen, why don't you go find Lyla and I'll do the mingling thing for a bit and maybe that way we can call it quits early?"

"Uh, sure," she said, half disappointed and half relieved by the distraction. "No hurry. No hurry at all …"

* * *

"You _still_ haven't told Chibs? Eden …"

"Don't look at me like that, Lyla – it's not exactly been a good time," Eden sighed, toying with the straw in her sparkling water. "And look around, it's not really the right time now, is it?"

"He scared them," Lyla said, surveying the clubhouse that hadn't quite reached rowdy Friday night level, but was still full of patches and trusted hang-arounds and croweaters talking and laughing. "This is their way of trying to forget that. Get back to normal."

"Wish it was that easy for the rest of us," Eden sighed, getting a little smirk in return.

"Oh, sweetie, you gave up any chance of getting your life back to _normal_ when you let that man put a little baby Chibs in your belly …"

"Lyla! Do you wanna say that any louder? I don't think the guys in Tacoma heard you!"

"No one's listening," Lyla laughed. "But Chibs is staring over here, looking like he's pining for you. Go on, go to him – the two of you deserve a little loving."

Rolling her eyes, Eden did nevertheless get up from her seat and head for the biker, her heart lifting at the sight of the slow smile that spread across his scarred face – although it plummeted the next at the sight of one of Flick's girls sashaying her way over to the club president and practically draping herself over him to plant a kiss on his cheek with impossibly pouty lips.

Everly Sinclair, emphasis on the _sin_, and the hottest ticket on the Red Woody books right now, with a mane of pale blonde hair that tumbled down her back to end in baby pink ringlets, one of the higher end boob jobs she definitely wasn't shy about flaunting, and legs that just seemed to go on forever.

Eden couldn't help glancing down at herself after taking in the other woman's outfit. She'd tried to make as much of an effort as she could get in the mood for, whereas the porn star had clearly committed to making an impact, in a hot pink leather mini-skirt and matching crop top with a zip she kept toying with and easing down a little further as she cooed over Chibs.

"… so if you need some TLC while you recover …" Everly offered coyly, one long pink nail still playing with the zip of her top while she reached with her free hand to trace lightly over the president's patch on Chibs' cut.

Part of Eden was sorely tempted to just slink quietly away. How could she compete with … that? Especially now, after everything that had happened and everything that lay ahead. Who wanted broken and bruised, or knocked up with stretch marks, over every man's fucking wet dream?

Then Chibs shook his head, removing the taken aback blonde's hand and making her giggle in disbelief.

"Oh, come on, Mr President," she coaxed. "I know you're still recovering, but I'll be gentle. Promise. Like I said, you look like you could do with some TLC …"

Taking a deep breath, Eden forced herself to head to Chibs' side, bolstered by his grateful look.

"Sorry, but he's got an old lady for that," she said simply.

Everly turned around to give her the once-over and then smiled indulgently. "As if, sweetheart," she said, quickly turning her attention back to Chibs and returning to trailing a suggestive finger down his chest. "Now, where were we …?"

With all the emotions that had been stewing inside her – guilt, fear, anger, hurt - about to come close to boiling over, Eden's hand shot out before Chibs had a chance to react or she'd even really thought it through, grabbing the porn star's wrist and sharply twisting her arm behind her back until she yelped in pain.

"Hey, get off me!" Everly shrieked, drawing the attention of pretty much everyone in close proximity.

"Do you know what happened to the last person who laid their hands on my old man?" Eden leaned in close to hiss. "They _died_."

It was only at the feel of Chibs' arm snaking around her waist that the medic came to her senses and let go her vise-like hold on the other woman like she'd been burned.

"Easy, love," his thick brogue murmured in her ear, soothing the fire of her temper.

"Psycho bitch!" Everly all but spat, rubbing at the finger marks left on her wrist and glaring around wide-eyed. "You all saw what she did to me, right?"

"Oi," Chibs growled. "If you're gonna disrespect my old lady, you better know you got off light so far. Either fall in line or get the fuck out. Your choice."

Her jaw dropping at that, the porn star opened her mouth to argue, thought the better of it, and flounced off with a huffy toss of her hair and what was left of her dignity - leaving Eden to visibly wilt in fresh guilt and mortification at having caused a scene.

"I can't believe I did that," she whispered, burying her face in her hands.

But Chibs wasn't having that, gently easing them away. "Been getting too big for her boots lately, that one," he smirked. "Needed taking down a peg or two. Besides … kinda like seeing a wee bit o' fire from ya."

"You're not embarrassed I kicked off like that in front of everyone?"

He actually chuckled at that. "Hell no, darlin'. What man wouldn't want a gorgeous lass getting all possessive over him? And if Gemma or Tara were here, they'd tell you the bitches round here need keeping in check sometimes …"

His smile faded at the memory of all the club women they had lost, but he tried to shake off thoughts of the past when his present company looked so unlike her usual together self. Taking her hand in his, he raised it to his lips for a kiss.

"Stay wi' me, love," he murmured. "Just … stay."

He'd said he wouldn't pressure her and he meant it, but when she nodded and her fingers laced through his, the biker considered her for a moment and then jerked his head in the direction of the dorms.

"C'mon," Chibs said, making sure she was right behind him as he led the way towards the sanctuary of his quarters. "Let's get some peace."


	41. Chapter 41

**Forty-One**

"Trust me?"

She did, but that didn't ease her reluctance because, even though his injuries were by far the more serious, she knew he would hate further evidence of the violence against her. She wasn't exactly keen on the reminder herself. But, looking into those warm brown eyes, she found herself nodding before her gaze dropped self-consciously to the floor of his clubhouse dorm room.

A gentle finger below the chin tilted Eden's face back up to his and Chibs leaned in to press a kiss to her lips, one so tender that her eyes drifted closed of their own accord and she barely noticed his hands finding the hem of her top to slowly ease it upwards. He had to pull away to lift the silky material over her head, but she heard the inhale and tried to swallow down the sudden lump in her throat.

"Jesus, Eden," the biker sighed, his fingers grazing feather-light over the mottled bruising that graced her ribs. "I'm so sorry, darlin'."

"It's … okay," she tried to shrug, because what else could she say? It wasn't like it was his fault.

"It really fucking isn't," he said, his touch turning just a little firmer, probing as gently as he could. "You sure nothing's broken?"

"Just bruised. Guess I got … lucky."

Something that might have been a wry smile tugged at her mouth and was gone again. Lucky. It was hard to acquaint everything that had gone down with anything resembling luck and yet she knew that, as bad as it had been, it could have been worse. The man stood in front of her, a fresh scar hidden under his shirt and cut, could be laid out in the mortuary and she could have miscarried a baby she hadn't even known existed. If that vicious boot had been aimed just a little lower …

Chibs may not have fully understood the train of thought that led to it, but he caught the shiver that ran down her spine, sympathy etched across his face. His lips sought out hers again, a hand coming up to cradle the back of her head.

"I promise you, love, I'll do everything in my power to make sure nothing like this happens again," he murmured, holding her close. "Everything."

"I know," Eden whispered, her arms around him as he softly kissed her neck, then her bare shoulder.

But much as his ministrations were just the comforting balm needed to sooth away the lingering aftermath of all that fear and anxiety and pain, she couldn't help tensing when his mouth drifted lower, wondering if he'd notice the changes her body was already undergoing as she stood there in just her jeans and a lacy nude-coloured bra she was sure used to cover more than it did now.

She knew she had to tell Chibs her news, and soon. She couldn't help fearing the worst though and, after everything, she couldn't bear the thought of losing something she had only just gotten back. Surely waiting one more night couldn't hurt? One night to just let him be that source of comfort she so badly needed.

One more night before everything potentially went to hell again.

And if one night was all she was getting …

Pulling the silver-haired Scotsman close, Eden kissed him passionately, feeling him hesitate and then wrap her up in his arms as he kissed her back.

"Not that I'm in the habit o' complaining about these things," he tried, when they were both breathless. "But what was that for?"

Eden simply shrugged. "Wanted to," she smiled, almost shyly, drawing a little longing groan from the biker.

"Fuck, lass, the things you do to me," Chibs managed roughly, as he walked them both closer to the bed, only for reality to creep back in for the young woman in his arms.

"Your stitches …"

"I'll let you sew me back up if I pop one?" he suggested, letting his hands roam up and down her bare back.

"Filip …"

It was his turn to shrug in the face of her half scolding tone. "Just gonna have to be gentle wi' me," he said. "'Cause I ain't being funny, darlin', but right now I reckon me head's about to explode!"

Even she had to laugh at that and Chibs grinned to see it, only to turn serious for a moment, his forehead resting against hers. "I told you I'd take things slow and I will if you need me to, 'course I will. But if a wee war wound's the only thing holding ya back, love …. Trust me, ain't nothing gonna make me feel better right now than getting to show my girl how much I absolutely bloody love her."

Tracing one of his scarred cheeks and letting her fingertips scratch lightly through the scruff of his salt-and-pepper beard, Eden pressed a tiny kiss to the biker president's lips.

"Show me then," she whispered, her cheeks flushing under the heat of his gaze. "Show me you love me."

A slow smile curved the Scot's lips upwards. He didn't intend leaving one damn shred of doubt in her mind, stitches or no stitches.

And he didn't.

* * *

It had been far too long since she had been in his bed, but Chibs was determined to take it slow, to savour every second and to do whatever he could to help exorcise the demons in his girl's mind. He knew she hadn't been sleeping well, that she'd been restless and seemingly tormented by nightmares. Not that she had admitted it herself, but he'd gone ahead and checked in with Seth for a more accurate update, telling himself he'd rather face Eden's wrath for going behind her back than let her just suffer in silence.

He needed to understand what was really going on with her, to know how she was coping, without her putting a brave face on it because she was more worried about his bloody recovery. There was no fucking need to spare him. So he'd been stabbed and, aye, it hadn't exactly been a walk in the park, but he'd had worse. Getting blown up in an IRA car-bomb, just for example.

That wasn't really the tone he wanted to take with his girl though, all things considered. I'm-fine-compared-to-all-the-other-times-this-life-near-killed-me. Not exactly reassuring.

And he hadn't been lying before. He would have waited, content to just fall asleep with her next to him, knowing she was safe and that he hadn't totally fucked up their relationship by pushing her away and then, thoughtless fucker that he was, shagging the first bird who looked his way. And even though he had already realised he'd fallen for the wee medic, the thought of her in danger, the thought that he might lose her, had fully opened his eyes and it startled him to discover just how deep his feelings ran.

His goddamn heart had been ripped from his chest, stamped on and patched back up too many times. He'd started to think maybe life would be easier if he kept everyone at a distance, let himself turn cold and hard. Maybe that was the only way to survive this life, especially once forced to wield that gavel.

And yet it was too late. Because he loved her, wholly and completely, and he already couldn't imagine his world without her in it. He couldn't harden his heart against that any more than he could turn his back on his brothers, his family.

So there could be no more pushing her away. No shutting her out of his life, even the parts that were dark and ugly. But he would be there, he would do everything he damn well could to be everything she needed. To help her heal and keep her safe. Because she loved him too and that blew his fucking mind.

He didn't deserve to have her laid in his bed, still a little tense and unsure, but looking up at him with such love and trust in those gorgeous green eyes, and he kissed her lips softly. He wanted her more than he'd wanted anything in a long time, but he'd spend all night just kissing her, if that was what she needed, his hands slowly caressing her soft skin. No impatience, no urgency, just slowly soothing away her apprehension.

Her fingers reached out to tangle in the beads of the cross around his neck and she smiled up at him faintly, tugging him down into another, more passionate kiss. His hand slipped downwards and under the low waistband of her panties, pausing at the first sign of hesitancy, before she let her legs part for him and he pressed tender kisses along her jaw to her ear, whispering for her to open her eyes again.

"See? Just me, my darlin'," he murmured roughly. "Just me … You tell me to stop if it's too much, yeah?"

"Don't stop," Eden whispered, an arm around his shoulders and her other hand behind her head, gripping the pillow tight. "Please, Filip …"

Her words trailed off into a little whimper at the gentle touch of his fingers.

"That's it, love, relax," Chibs said, nuzzling kisses down her throat. "I ain't hurting you, am I?"

She shook her head, her eyes drifting closed and her bottom lip caught between her teeth as his mouth moved lower, kissing the swell of her breasts. The strap of her bra slipped off her shoulder and he peeled the delicate lace down, the scruff of his beard tickling her soft skin as he took her nipple in his mouth. The little moan pulled from her by his ministrations and the warm wetness on his fingers made him quirk an eyebrow and he urged her to open her eyes again, wanting to be sure there was no chance of dark memories intruding on their time together and slowly letting his fingers press inside her as he held her gaze.

Her breath hitched in her throat, but at his unspoken question, she swallowed and nodded for him to keep going, his lips against her temple as he murmured to her while his fingers found their rhythm.

Fuck, he was rock-hard for her, shifting to try to keep his weight off her. And the soft moans he was drawing from her weren't exactly helping. He was still prepared to call time on this at any sign of distress from his girl, but he was pleasantly surprised when she reached for him beneath the covers. Christ, he had missed her touch. He shifted again, noting what movement led to an uncomfortable pull on his wound and trying to remind himself to take it easy as he reached for a condom.

"You sure, lass?" Chibs asked again, knowing a shake of her head would result in probably the worst case of blue balls a man could go through, but equally determined to leave all the control with Eden. He needed her to know she could trust him completely.

Her cheeks flushed as she reached for him again, quickly inspecting the gauze taped over his wound for any sign of bleeding and, finding none, pulling him down into a long passionate kiss.

"I need you," Eden whispered. "I want this … I want _you_. I love you, Filip."

"Jesus, Eden, I love you too," he managed gruffly, murmuring it over and over into her ear as his cock pressed against her entrance, finally sliding deep inside with a guttural groan. "Fuck, I love you, my darlin' …"

* * *

Finally laid spent in her lover's arms, her fingertips tracing lightly over the ink gracing his chest and biceps, Eden smiled softly at the feel of his hand stroking over her bed-tousled hair.

"You good, pet?"

She could only nod at first, struggling to find words for what she wanted to say. "I've never had this," she said finally, her voice quiet. "Someone who puts me first like you do."

Chibs considered that for a moment. "I know the club can get in the way o' that sometimes," he said honestly. "And sometimes I just ain't got a choice in that. But when I do, when it's my choice, that's how it'll be, darlin'. You deserve better than me, but whatever you need … I'll be there."

"You're a good man, Filip," Eden said, frowning at his wry look. "I mean it. I know you've got the whole tough biker thing going on, but underneath it all, you're kind and you're caring. You make me feel safe. Loved."

"'Cause you are, darlin'," he smiled, cuddling her close and pressing a fervent kiss to her head, inadvertently cutting off anything else she might have said. "Now, stop filling my head wi' all that or you'll have me gearing up for round two and, right now, it just might finish us both off. Get some sleep, my wee love."

For a moment, she thought about saying something. About trying to find the words to explain about the little spark of life the two of them had unwittingly created. But she'd had such a lot to come to terms with, such a lot to process. And with the rest of her body so blissfully content for the first time in a long time, it was easier to drown out the nagging voice in her head and to overlook the tiny knot of anxiety in her stomach. To tell herself this time together, this peaceful cocoon they seemed to have woven around themselves, was something to be treasured, not blown apart and turned upside down with a bombshell announcement.

Tomorrow. One way or another, she'd tell him tomorrow.


	42. Chapter 42

**Forty-Two**

Having woken up too comfortable and content to want to move, but also desperately craving a tall glass of OJ, Eden finally summoned the energy to climb out of bed, only to end up giggling when strong arms tightened around her to hold her back.

"And where d'ya think you're goin', huh, lass?" Chibs mumbled, sounding as if he was still more than half asleep himself, even as he pressed a sleepy kiss to her shoulder.

"To get some juice. I'll be back," she told him, smiling at his little groan of protest when she eased herself free and slipped out from under the covers. "Want anything?"

"Just your cute wee arse back in this bed," he grinned, finally cracking an eye open and shifting onto his back to drink in the sight of her pulling on one of his t-shirts, one arm tucked behind his head.

She was still laughing, her cheeks lightly flushed from the heat of his gaze, when she padded down the – for once – quiet hallway that led back to the clubhouse bar. It was still early though, the whole place still and undisturbed in the soft early morning light. Or at least so she thought, until she rounded a corner and bumped straight into a figure trying to tread equally as quietly as she was.

Just about managing to clamp down on her startled squeak of fear, Eden's hand flew to her chest, her heart thumping. "Lyla! Jesus, you scared the shit outta me," she declared, before the other woman could hush her. "What are you doing here this early?"

"I … uh, just wanted to … make a start in the garage," the blonde said vaguely. "The paperwork's a mess and, well, you know these guys …"

"This early though? The sun's barely up," Eden noted, wrinkling her nose in disapproval. "I was just getting-"

"Hey, Lyla? You forgot your earrings, doll …"

Lyla froze as she watched the realisation slowly dawn on Eden's face, her eyes widening as she turned to stare at the biker who'd stuck his head out of a dorm room - only to discover his error and retreat again, albeit with a little grin on his face.

"It's not what you think," Lyla tried, unconvincingly.

"Oh, of course not," Eden grinned. "Clearly you let him borrow your earrings 'cause they brought out the colour of his eyes …"

"Shit," Lyla sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Eden, you can't say anything. Not to anyone."

"So there is something to tell!" her friend beamed excitedly. "Oh my god-"

"I'm serious! Not a word!"

Huffing a sigh, Eden considered for a moment. "Can I at least tell Chibs?"

"No!"

"Oh, come on, he won't say anything and I have to tell someone or I'll burst," Eden grinned. "You can't ask me to keep secrets from my old man."

"Oh really?" Lyla shot back archly, poking her friend lightly in the stomach. "Told him about that little secret yet, have you? And while we're on the subject, I dunno how he hasn't noticed something's up because your boobs already look huge!"

"They do _not!_ And also, wow, low blow," Eden protested, raising her eyebrows at the growl of frustration she got in return.

"Okay, fine – you can tell Chibs. But only because I'm trusting the two of you to keep your mouths shut. I do _not_ want to be the talk of the clubhouse. Okay?"

"Okay, okay!" Eden agreed, quickly slipping her arm through Lyla's and trailing her with her. "Now, come on. I need OJ and you need to spill …"

* * *

"What happened? Did ya have to go pick the oranges yersel', love?" Chibs drawled lazily when his old lady finally returned, an excited smile on her face.

"Sorry, unexpected diversion," Eden said, two steaming mugs of tea in her hands.

"Ah, you angel," the Scotsman added, taking both teas from her to let her slip back under the covers and then handing hers back. "So? What kept ya?"

"Bumped into Lyla," she told him, a look that suggested this was highly significant on her face.

"Lyla? Bit early for her, ain't it? That lass works too damn hard …"

"She didn't just get here though."

"I … don't follow," Chibs frowned.

"She stayed the night," Eden blurted out, unable to draw it out any longer. "With Knox!"

Chibs nearly choked on his tea.

* * *

Despite having decided she might as well actually make a start in the office, Lyla found she couldn't actually concentrate and ended up sinking down at the desk piled with paperwork, her head in her hands. The sound of a clearing throat had her looking round though, a dark look on her face.

"Don't tell me I'm back in the bad books," Knox sighed, leaning a shoulder against the frame of the door.

"What happened to discretion?" the little blonde snapped. "What happened to keeping things between us?"

"Oh, come on, Lyla – it wasn't like I did it on purpose. Besides, it's only Eden. She won't say anything. She's a good girl and she's your friend."

"And she'll tell Chibs and he'll accidentally say something in front of … I dunno … Tig. And then it'll be round every charter by the end of the day."

"Listen, no offense, but I think you're seriously overestimating the level of interest in my sex life."

"Ugh, can you just go away now, please?" she said, raking her hands through her long hair, her frustration and distress obvious.

"Damn, doll, that's cold," Knox noted, folding his arms across his broad chest. "And actually, no, I can't. Not even if I wanted to. Chibs wants me here. Bit of back-up. Club shit. I ain't getting into it."

"Really?" Lyla said sceptically.

"Uh, get over yourself, darlin'. Yes, really. Ask him if you don't believe me."

"Maybe I will."

"You do that."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Scowling back at her as she glared at him, Knox turned away exasperated, but he didn't get more than a few feet when he turned and strode back into the office, pulling her up from her chair and into his arms in one fluid move to plant a forceful kiss on her stunned mouth.

"I know you had a good time last night," he declared, once she'd pulled away and socked him indignantly in the arm. "Come find me when you're prepared to talk and not bite my damn head off. 'Cause, doll-face, I ain't going anywhere."

Sauntering off, the Rogue River sergeant left the object of his affections fuming as she stared after him. Although there just might have been a little sparkle in her eyes as her hand drifted to her kiss-bruised lips.

"Asshole," Lyla muttered, knowing full well she didn't mean it and inwardly cursing the visiting biker's unquestionable charisma.

* * *

By the time she'd finished pointlessly opening drawers just to slam them and moving piles of paperwork from place to another, Lyla had to just give in to the urge for caffeine and brave the clubhouse, only to find none other than Knox sat alone at a table with a pot of coffee, flicking through a discarded and out-of-date motorcycle magazine.

"Coffee?" he offered, holding up the pot like he'd known she'd show up eventually.

"Fine," she nodded, going to grab a clean mug and then joining him at the table. "Look, before you say anything, it's not you, okay?"

"Oh good," the dark-haired biker drawled. "Because if last night wasn't fucking incredible in your book, you're setting the bar pretty goddamn high …"

Lyla rolled her eyes at that. "I see your shyness still needs work," she sighed.

"Hey, I just know a good thing when I'm on to it," he shrugged. "And you and me … Come on, cut a guy some slack here and just admit you had a good time! I know you did, Ly – I was there, remember? And I'm pretty sure I've got the marks to prove it …"

She flushed at that, a sudden memory of her nails raking his muscular back and biting his shoulder to keep from crying out flitting through her mind and making him smirk at the look on her face.

"Knox …"

All his bravado melted away at the sound of genuine distress in her voice.

"What kinda prick have you got me down as, huh?" he sighed. "Come on, I ain't gonna broadcast this, Lyla. Especially if you want to pretend it never happened. Credit me with a shred of common fucking decency."

"I said it wasn't you and I meant it, you know," she said quietly, exhaling as she toyed with her coffee mug to avoid looking at him. "It's Opie."

"Opie?" Knox echoed, with a little frown, although he wasn't so tactless as to point out the obvious and instead waited for her to offer some kind of explanation.

"I know he's gone," Lyla said finally, as if she'd read his mind. "But round this place, I'm just still so … tied up with him. Opie's wife, Opie's widow, Opie's kids' guardian. And it's not that I mind so much, I know the place that's given me. A good job, a roof over the kids' heads. Protection. A family to belong to, even if it is a pretty dysfunctional one. But I don't know what happens to that if they start seeing me as … as just another croweater. If they feel like I'm disrespecting his memory …"

"No one could expect you to live in his shadow for ever, darlin'," Knox tried, deciding to address what was in his mind the least difficult part of all that, rather than look at the much more complex issue of what was actually going on between them. "Not even Opie."

But she was draining the last of her coffee and pushing his hand away. "I'm sorry, Knox, I never should have let this – whatever _this_ is - go this far. And it can't happen again. Please respect that."

"Lyla …"

She pretended not to hear him as she hurried off, back to the garage office where she could shut the door and block out the rest of the world. Him included.

* * *

Strolling out of church that evening, Chibs smiled to see his old lady perched on a stool to chat to Charlie as he cleaned behind the bar, both of them looking a little more like their usual selves after all they'd been through.

"You good, little brother?" the president asked, reaching across the bar to ruffle the young prospect's hair teasingly before slipping an arm around Eden's waist. He'd warned them both that his old lady basically adopting the lad into her family didn't buy him any favours with the club, but secretly Chibs had no intention of being too hard on him while he was still grieving for his mother. The kid still had to earn his place, but he was fond of him all the same. "Two beers, Charlie-Boy, and look sharp."

"Uh, _one_ beer," Eden corrected firmly. "He's on medication and I'm good with water."

"Spoilsport," Chibs frowned, but she just smiled sweetly at him and leaned in to peck a tiny kiss on his lips.

"You shouldn't be drinking at all," she reminded him. "So count yourself lucky I'm allowing you that much."

"You hearing this, Charlie? That's how they play it, son – wait 'til yer well and truly hooked and then start getting really bloody bossy," Chibs noted, grinning when all it got him was a playful punch in the arm. "Easy, darlin', I'm an injured man! You're meant to be taking care o' me …"

Eden feigned offence, her arms wrapping around his neck. "I take plenty of care of you, if I remember rightly."

But Chibs just laughed. "Careful, love, you'll make the boy blush," he grinned, giving Charlie the finger when he pretended to throw up at the couple's display of affection before bustling off to restock the drinks supply. "See, scared him away."

"I'll scare you away in a minute," Eden laughed, letting him kiss her again before she realised his attention had started to wander. "Oh, sorry, am I boring you, honey?"

"No chance," he declared, pressing a little kiss to her neck. "But ya got me wondering, if Lyla and Knox are a thing, why do the two o' them look so bloody miserable? No, don't look, darlin' …"

"How can I see if you're right if I don't look?" Eden said, trying to sneak a peek over his shoulder, under the guise of kissing him. "Ugh, you're right – something's definitely up. What do we do?"

"Uh, keep our noses out o' it?" Chibs suggested wryly.

"And let our friends just be miserable? That's no good. Maybe we should talk to them …"

"And maybe we should leave well enough alone. Listen, I love the pair o' them, but I ain't a bleedin' agony aunt, pet. They'll work it out."

"Maybe you're right," Eden sighed, turning back to the bar to sip her sparkling water and leaning back against his chest as he stood behind her stool with his arms wrapped contentedly around her waist.

They turned away just in time to miss the moment the clubhouse door opened and a latecomer slipped inside, dark eyes seeking out the Samcro president and noting the young woman in his arms.

"Some things never change, do they, Filip?" came the murmur, too low for him to hear.


	43. Chapter 43

**Forty-Three**

It was like a sixth sense.

Just a feeling of eyes on his back, an instinctive awareness of a presence. _Her_ presence. Chibs knew even before he turned around that he was about to come face to face with his estranged wife.

"Filip …" Eden said softly, having turned with him and spotted the visitor staring at them both.

He didn't have to explain. The look on his face did that for him, and his heart sank to see it dawn on her too. The last thing he wanted was to cause her hurt or make her doubt her place in his life. But he couldn't shy away from this. Couldn't just send the mother of his child packing without a word.

The arm around Eden's waist gave her a gentle little squeeze before pulling away.

"Stay here," he said, in a tone that bore no argument.

The biker strode across the clubhouse, squaring his shoulders to weather whatever storm might come to pass.

"Fiona."

"Filip," she said coolly, those dark eyes roving slowly over him. "Another near miraculous recovery, it seems. Getting to be a habit, my boy."

"Aye. Not exactly planned, I assure you," he said, nodding in the direction of the club's inner sanctuary, somewhere away from curious the curious eyes of those around them. "We should probably talk."

"I'm sure we've plenty to catch up on," Fiona agreed, her tone wry and knowing. "Not keeping you from anything … pressing, I hope?"

"Nothing that won't still be there when we're done."

She raised an eyebrow at that pointed barb, but followed him without a word.

* * *

"How's Kerri?" the biker president asked, forgoing his usual seat at the head of the reaper table to perch on its edge instead. He'd pushed out a chair with his booted foot, but it seemed his visitor preferred to stand, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Worried about her da's latest efforts to get himself killed," came the short response, before she softened slightly. "She's well. So grown-up these days. Talking about university."

Chibs shook his head at that, emotion plain on his scarred face. "University! Our wee girl goin' off to university … Jesus. Must get her brains from her ma."

Fiona actually smiled at that, despite herself. "Well, she sure gets her stubbornness from her da."

"Oh, aye, 'cause her ma's lacking in that department," he shot back, lips quirked in a little grin, before he sighed and simply got down to brass tacks. "You didn't need to come all this way, Fi."

"You really think, after everything, a call to say you're at death's door wouldn't bring me here?" Fiona said, stepping closer to touch a hand to his cheek.

He covered her hand with his, feeling a pang of regret for how things had played out between them, but then gently removed hers, knowing that what was done was done. Any chance they might have had together had been back in Ireland and Jimmy's interference had long since destroyed that.

They had to move on, once and for all.

"Ruin the fantasy, does it? The wife turning up," Fiona said, a bitter smile on her face. "Neglect to mention that little detail, do you? To the- What do you boys call your little whores again? Croweaters? Still amazes me how some girls will debase themselves all over a piece o' leather on a man's back and a patch on his chest. I'm sure you've noticed, Mr President …"

Chibs scoffed a little at that, folding his arms slowly as he let her say her piece. Better she did it here, in private, than out there in the clubhouse in front of everyone. In front of the men he was supposed to lead. In front of Eden.

"You done?" he drawled. "Look, you know the score, Fi. You ain't ever had time for the club and that's your right. You don't have to be here. As long as you let Sambel keep an eye on you and Kerrianne for protection, that's as far as your connection to the Sons has to go."

"Really? You don't think being the wife o' the mother charter president makes it run a little deeper?"

"We both know you ain't been my wife in any meaningful way in a very long time," he said.

"_Meaningful_," Fiona echoed mockingly. "Am I supposed to believe the wee girl you were wrapped around out there is anything more _meaningful_ than being willing to get on her knees any time you click your fingers?"

"Don't push it, Fi."

"How chivalrous. Getting all offended on behalf o' your latest little bit on the side …"

"Bit on the side? On the side o' what, Fi? Huh? On the side o' what?" he demanded, his temper starting to simmer, reluctant as he was to really start a fight. "A quick shag in a bathroom in Belfast a couple o' years ago. You and me ain't been a real couple since I left Ireland – and that ain't today or yesterday! That girl out there … She ain't some croweater. I didn't want to tell you like this, but I was going to tell you. I owe you that much. She's my old lady."

* * *

Fiona stared at the man in front of her coolly and then seemed to simply dismiss what he was trying to say.

"Oh please, Filip, she's hardly the first younger woman you've had your dalliances with while we've been married. You always were too soft, deep down. What? Did you seriously think I didn't know you were bedding Jimmy's wee slut o' a sister? Was that where you were when I was giving birth to our daughter alone in that godforsaken excuse for a hospital?"

Chibs stayed silent at that for a long time, struggling to keep his warring emotions in check.

"You know it wasn't," he said finally, seeing no point in denying anything else this far down the line. But he wasn't having her make out that he hadn't tried to be there, not when keeping him away had been their doing – hers and Jimmy's. Not Aoife's. Not for a second. "And that wee girl's dead, and on that murdering bastard's say-so, so let's just leave her out o' this."

She seemed to know better than challenge him on that score at least.

"So, are you really going to try telling me _that's_ serious?" Fiona demanded, with a curt jerk of her head in the direction of the bar, a scoff already on her lips at the thought of her husband and the attractive young woman she'd witnessed in his arms. She knew the life. Knew the kind of women that flocked around the club. Croweaters held no threat, as far as she was concerned. Not really.

But something in his brown eyes was already warning her this wasn't like that. Not just a quick roll between the sheets with some younger woman only interested in one thing – the kudos of fucking a patch.

"Aye, it's serious," Chibs said, his voice quiet, but his words firm and leaving no room for interpretation. "You and me … You know it's over. Has been for a long time. I … I'm wi' Eden now."

"Oh, for Jesus' sake …"

"I'm wi' her, end o' story," Chibs said, cutting her exasperated rant dead before she could really hit her stride. "Look, Fi, I ain't asking your approval. And I sure as shit ain't asking your permission. But, for both our sakes, don't you think it's time to draw a line in the sand?"

A lesser man would have baulked under her gaze, but he stood his ground. Even though, to be honest, he would have rather faced a hail of bullets than that look.

"Divorce. You're asking me for a _divorce?_ For some wee slapper nearly young enough to be a sister to your own bloody child!" Fiona practically spat, her voice rising shrilly, even as she stayed rooted to the spot, with her fists clenched as if to keep herself from clawing his eyes out.

His jaw clenched at that, but he forced himself to stay as calm as he could. "I love her-"

"Love …" Fiona sneered.

"Aye, you remember that?" he growled, anger etched across his face as he took a step towards her, even as the door opened.

"Filip?"

The soft, hesitant voice was enough to stop him in his tracks. "Eden …"

"So you're the little tart whose been shagging my husband."

"_Fiona!_" Chibs barked, in warning to his ex not to cross a line he wouldn't let her come back from, but Eden simply smiled tightly, stepping forward to meet the accusation head on and closing the door behind her, right in the face of Tig as he made helpless _I tried_ gestures to his president.

"If you want to put it that way," she shrugged. "I mean, there's a bit more to it, but the way I see it, you wouldn't understand."

"You're seriously going to lecture to me-"

"Oh, come on," Eden sighed. "Let's just get this over with. You don't want him, you just don't want anyone else to have him either. If you loved him, you wouldn't be thousands of miles apart from him!"

"You have no idea the struggles-"

"No, and I don't want to either," the younger woman insisted, her fingers seeking out the biker's and curling around them. "I'm not interested in your cause, or your life in Ireland. Go back to it, if it's so damn important."

"That's it? No big sob story urging me to let him go?"

"I don't need to," Eden said evenly. "You don't have anything to hold onto in the first place. I love Filip and I know he loves me. I don't need a piece of paper to confirm it. If a piece of paper's all you've got, keep it."

"I have his _child_," Fiona seethed.

"And I … I'd never try to get in the way of that."

But something in the look on Eden's face and the way she faltered just a little made even the formidable Irishwoman draw up short, her dark eyes seeming to burn into the younger woman as they raked over her. "No …"

And just like that, Fiona's incredulity turned to rage and she rounded on her estranged husband, confused as he was by what had just transpired between the two women. "You stupid, stupid bastard!" she all but spat, before storming out and almost taking the door off its hinges in the process.

That left Chibs staring after her in bewilderment. "Okay, I knew she'd be furious, but what in the name o' all that's holy was that?"

Pale-faced and almost trembling, his old lady couldn't seem to meet his gaze, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her top.

"Eden? What am I missing here, darlin'?"

"I … I don't know how she guessed … I was going to tell you, I just … didn't know how …"

"Tell me what?" the biker growled, not liking this one bit. "Eden, what the fuck is going on here?"

"I'm pregnant," she blurted out, making him feel for all the world like the floor had just dropped out from under him. "And yes, it's yours. I'm three months gone."

"Fuck," he managed, for lack of a more eloquent response. "You're … I … Jesus fucking Christ."


	44. Chapter 44

**Forty-Four**

"Mary, mother o' Christ," Chibs managed, sitting down heavily on the nearest chair.

"No – Eden, mother of … your … your child," she said, with a forced lightness she didn't feel. Trying desperately not to let herself crumple into tears and cursing the hormones that already seemed to be making her more emotionally fragile than she liked, she tried to explain, conscious that she was already rambling. "I'm sorry, I know it's not something we'd talked about, and it's probably too soon, and you maybe don't even want this …"

He looked up at that and Eden was shocked to see his eyes were damp with tears too, before he dashed a hand across them.

"How long have you known?" he asked quietly.

She looked at him pleadingly, guilt written over her pale face.

"How long?"

"N-not the whole time. Only s-since the hospital. I just … I mean, I tried …"

"C'mere to me."

"Filip," she started, even though she didn't really have a clue where to begin to find the words to explain.

"C'mere," he insisted, not waiting for her to move, but instead climbing to his feet and slowly crossing the space between them, frowning to see her practically trembling. "Were you worrying about telling me?"

Eden took a breath and dipped her head in a tiny nod, even as he seemed to drink in the sight of her and his strong hands slipped to her hips, his thumbs grazing over stomach.

"A baby," the Scotsman murmured, his voice low and rough with raw emotion. "I never thought … Ah, Eden, my love – a wee baby …"

Her eyes widened, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You're … You're okay with this?"

He stared at her. "Am I okay wi' my beautiful girl telling me she's carrying my baby? Am I okay wi' my beautiful, _beautiful_ girl making me a daddy again?" he demanded, a little grin tugging at his lips as he coaxed a smile from her between fresh tears. "Lemme think … Aye, lass, I'm okay wi' it."

* * *

Half laughing, half crying, Eden threw her arms tight around Chibs' neck and he lifted her right off her feet with his warm embrace, keeping an arm wrapped securely around her when he set her back down and tilted her lips up to his to claim them in kiss after tender kiss.

"Jesus, love, you don't half know how to drop a bombshell on a man."

"I was so scared you'd be horrified," she confessed, finding herself looking up into warm brown eyes full of everything she had longed to see there and more, letting him brush tears from her face with gentle fingers.

"Horrified?" Chibs echoed, a frown crossing his scarred face. "How in the blue fuck could I be _horrified_? I mean, don't get me wrong, part o' me's fairly scared shitless right now. But even if it makes me a bloody selfish bastard … I want this. Jesus, how I want this, Eden. I swear I'll never push you away again, my darlin'. Never. Oh, pet, don't cry …"

"I'm so s-sorry," Eden whispered, through yet more tears. "I should have told you sooner and then Fiona wouldn't have found out like that – I've made everything w-worse!"

"Hey, hush now," the biker soothed, not wanting her to go through any more upset than she had already, especially in her condition. "That's enough o' that, lass. No more tears on that pretty wee face. You're my only concern right now, you hear me? You and this wee one. I love you."

"I love you too," she sniffed, as he scooped her up bridal style and moved to settle on his chair at the head of the table with her on his lap. "Filip!" she protested. "You're supposed to be taking it easy!"

"Gotta take care of my girl," he shrugged, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Especially since I went and knocked her up."

"Smug, much?" she teased, managing a smile for him, one arm settling around his shoulders and the fingertips of her free hand scratching gently through his beard as she leaned in to kiss him again, her forehead resting against his.

"Little bit," Chibs confessed, with a grin. "Sorry, baby, guess ya gotta give yer aul' man his moment here. Ain't every day he finds out he's gonna be a da."

"Are you going to be like this the whole nine months? Well, six now …"

"Proud as fuckin' punch? You bet yer sweet wee arse."

"What about Fiona?"

"You let me worry about that," he sighed, dropping another kiss on her lips before freezing as a thought struck him. "Oh, shit, Eden - three months ... I went and knocked you up and then walked out on you, didn't I? I'm so fucking sorry, my love."

"Well, it wasn't exactly like that," she said, not wanting to hold it over his head when she could see how badly he felt about the inevitable maths behind her news. "It's not like you knew. Neither of us did."

"Coulda been a damn sight more careful though," Chibs muttered, before the guilty look on his face only shifted into near anguish as the full implications of her news came crashing down on him. "Jesus, when that bastard … Oh, darlin', when he took you …"

"I know," she said, fighting back tears again, the same thoughts having raced through her mind a thousand times. But she caught his distraught face in her hands to make him look at her. "But it's okay. The baby's okay, I promise."

"You're sure?"

Eden nodded, letting his hands slide to her stomach again and covering them with her own. "Guess this little one's strong, like its daddy," she managed softly.

"Like its mum," Chibs corrected, kissing her tenderly. "Like its gorgeous mum."

* * *

For as long as he could, the Samcro president just focused on his old lady and trying to get his head around the news she had given him, keeping her cuddled up on his lap and holding her close.

Finally though, he had to reluctantly make a move, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple first.

"We've got a lot to talk about, sweetheart," he murmured. "But if we stay in here much longer, the lads'll start thinking you've done me in. Plus, I should probably go see if Fiona's cooled down."

"You will tell her I'm genuinely sorry she found out like that? I really didn't mean for that to happen," Eden said anxiously, as she slipped off his lap. "I mean, I wasn't exactly expecting us to be best friends, but it'd be a really shitty move to spring something like this on her like that deliberately."

"I'll tell her," Chibs nodded. "Don't you go worrying any more about it, lass. Now, speaking o' telling people, who else knows? Seth? Desi? Charlie maybe? It's okay if they do – I'd rather know you had someone for support these last few days …"

Eden shook her head. "No, none of them. Just Lyla. She came to see me in the hospital just after I found out and when I still didn't know if you were going to be okay and it just came out. I made her promise not to say anything until I could process it myself."

"Oh, love," Chibs sighed, hating the thought of all the added stress she'd been put under and pulling her back into his arms for a warm, protective hug.

"I need to tell Seth before we tell anyone else," she said, laying her head on his chest and closing her eyes at the thought. "I don't think he'll take it too well."

"Knocking up his baby sister? Nah, I don't imagine he will," the biker said wryly. "Can't say as I blame him either. You put that out o' your head too though, love. I'm a big boy – I can make things right wi' Seth. Make sure he knows I'm gonna step up here, take care o' what's mine. But … well, one hurdle at a time, eh?"

* * *

As suspected, Fiona had clearly decided not to let him off the hook that easily, still pacing in the yard by the time he had sent Eden off to chill out in his room and tasked Charlie with taking her a cup of tea. Chibs, having psyched himself up for round two of their confrontation, could practically feel the anger pulsating off his estranged wife before he even got close.

"All we've been through and _that's_ how you let me find out you're playing happy families wi' some … some …" Fiona floundered for the right word, having rounded on him as soon as she laid eyes on him approaching.

"Can you keep your bloody voice down please?" he tried, holding his hands up in surrender, relieved the rest of his club had wisely decided to stay inside and well clear. "Look, for what it's worth, I had no fucking idea mesel'. If I had, do you really think I'm that much o' a bastard? That ain't how I'd want you to find out. It ain't exactly how Eden wanted either o' us to find out – the wee lass was in bits!"

The Irishwoman scoffed at that. "I'm sure sparing my feelings was top o' her list o' priorities …" she said, her words laced with sarcasm.

"Look, Fi, I know she's younger," Chibs sighed. "But she ain't some daft tart wi' a head full o' wee sweetie mice. She ain't in this for … I dunno, the thrill o' chasing after a married man, getting one over on his wife or some shite like that. She didn't even know about you when we first got together and when I told her … I was the one convincing her she weren't getting in the middle o' anything. You wanna blame someone, blame me."

"Oh, believe me, I do," came the scowl. "How could you be so bloody irresponsible, Filip? I thought you might at least have learned something from our experience! A baby, at your age …"

"I ain't quite a fucking geriatric yet, you know," he muttered.

"How long have you even been together, you and this … Emma?"

"Eden," he corrected. "Ah … a wee while. It's complicated."

"I don't think you need to tell your _wife_ that," Fiona said snarkily. "Jesus, Filip. What am I going to do wi' you?"

"I'm guessing it's not cut me some bloody slack while me head's still fucking reeling?" he tried, sitting down on top of the picnic table with a heavy sigh and fishing for his smokes. "Christ … Would you sit down and quit pacing about like that? You're gonna gi' me a crick in me neck on top o' everything else."

With a dark glare, Fiona relented, falling silent for a long moment as she leaned against the edge of the table beside him.

"You really didn't know?"

"Nope," he confirmed, with a pop on the p, before shooting her a little sidelong glance. "It's only a heart attack if it's shooting pains, right?"

She side-eyed him back, the hint of a smile quirking her lips before it disappeared again. It hadn't escaped her notice that he was no longer wearing his wedding ring, not that she could say much when she hadn't worn hers in years. But while Jimmy had never liked to see hers on her finger, she knew that Chibs had long-since taken to wearing his heavy gold Celtic band on the wrong hand, like it was just another of his collection that served as legal knuckle-dusters of sorts. He always had been the sentimental type, but no longer it seemed.

"You're in love wi' her."

It wasn't a question, but Chibs nodded anyway, after a pause to consider, not his answer, but whether sharing it with his wife was the wisest of moves. In the end, he decided there had been too many secrets already.

"Aye," he said quietly. "I am. She's a good girl, Fi. Deserves better than the likes o' me."

"Sure don't we all?" she said wryly. "Are you planning to marry her?"

Chibs stared out across the horizon as he took a drag of his cigarette and exhaled slowly, before passing the butt over to her. "Aye, I was thinking I might," he said finally. "Someday. If she'll have me. If you'll let me."

"So you do need my permission after all …" she noted.

"If you wanna call it that," he shrugged, shooting her another little sidelong glance. "Maybe this can be a fresh start for both o' us."

Fiona snorted dismissively at that. "I don't think there'll be too many babies in my future, Filip, do you?"

He supposed not. "Funny, I always half thought you'd turn up here someday wi' a kid o' Jimmy's in tow," he confessed.

"Neither o' us were exactly the parental type. I love Kerrianne more than anything in this godforsaken world, but you know she wasn't exactly part o' the grand plan," she said, taking another puff or two of his cigarette and then holding it up in front of him before stubbing it out on the tabletop. "You're gonna have to pack these in, you know. At least around the girl. And no wetting the baby's head before its even born, drinking Jameson wi' the boys 'til all hours every night while she's stuck wi' water. I'm not having anyone thinking you learned to get away wi' behaviour like that on my watch."

"Heaven forbid," Chibs said, rolling his eyes with a little grin, before he turned sober again. "I don't want Kerri hearing this from anyone but me, okay?"

"I'm not going to lie to my own daughter, Filip."

"I'm not asking you to lie, I'm asking you not to say anything until I've had a chance to get me own head round this and then _I'll_ be the one to tell her."

"And if she asks?"

"Just how bloody likely is she to ask if her da's knocked up his girlfriend lately?"

"She could ask how you are …"

"And there's a hell o' a long way to go from _recovering nicely_ to _expecting a baby!_" he declared in exasperation. "For Jesus' sake, Fi, gi' me a break here, will ya?"

"Fine," she sighed. "I won't say anything. But on your head be it."


	45. Chapter 45

**Author's Note: My posting schedule has kinda gone out the window thanks to lockdown, but I'm just going to roll with it. Hope everyone's holding up okay. Hearing from those still enjoying this is a welcome little burst of positivity right now, so thank you as always. T x**

* * *

**Forty-Five**

"Evening, bud – that girl o' ours in?"

"Soaking in the tub. Bit of pampering, whatever shit chicks do to chill out. You want a beer while you … wait?" Seth trailed off, having held open the front door, only to grimace as Chibs simply patted his shoulder on the way past and headed for the bathroom. "Or come in, perve over my naked little sister, don't mind me."

Smirking as he left the disgruntled big boxing coach in his wake, the biker rapped lightly with a knuckle on the door, hearing the soft strain of music coming from the other side. "Mind if I come in, darlin'?"

He waited for her affirmation, then slipped around the door into the small bathroom lit by flickering candles, a slow smile tugging at his lips at the sight of his old lady relaxing in fragrant water topped with frothy bubbles that offered some, albeit sensual, semblance of modesty, but still revealed the occasional tantalising hint of soft skin. Her long hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, just a few tendrils escaping to lie damp against her neck.

"Hey you," Eden murmured, flushing lightly under the heat of her old man's gaze as he leaned against the wall, watching her trail a washcloth up one long smooth leg.

"Hey yersel'. Jesus, I dunno how I didn't see it before …" he mused, grinning at her bemused look of questioning. "You. Bloody gorgeous. I mean, you're always gorgeous – it's more than that. You've got that wee glow they talk about, lass."

She rolled her eyes at that, half disbelieving and half pleased. "Probably just the steam. And you won't be saying that when I can't see my feet," she warned, finishing up and gesturing towards her towel, making him reach for it and hold it open as she stood up carefully.

"I bloody will," Chibs insisted, wrapping her up in the fluffy softness. "The thought o' seeing you wi' a cute bump, knowing that's my baby in your belly … Dunno how I'm gonna keep my hands off ya, love."

As if to prove his point, he lifted her out of the bath and into his arms for a kiss.

"I'm getting you all wet," Eden smiled, her arms around his neck.

"Shouldn't that be my line?" Chibs chuckled, making her swat at him, but he only cuddled her closer. "Gotta admit, nice as it's been having a couple o' days o' just us knowing about the baby, I ain't exactly a fan o' having to come visit my old lady – my _pregnant_ old lady – instead o' having her by my side. You think maybe it's time to break the news to big brother?"

She took a deep breath that was half groan, her head resting against his chest. "Do we have to?" she lamented, only half joking.

"Aye," Chibs said firmly, planting a kiss on the top of her head. "Pretty sure we do. And soon, or else he's gonna catch on himself. Hey, no time like the present …"

"Well, I'm pretty sure Seth would appreciate it if I at least put clothes on first," Eden sighed.

But, despite her efforts to keep her tone light, a hint of worry lined her brow and Chibs frowned to see it. "Talk to me, sweetheart," he murmured, sensing there was more on her mind than just her brother's reaction. "Where's your head at wi' all this?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared," she admitted quietly, looking up at him as his hand caressed her cheek. "Not of Seth, just … A baby's a big step, Filip, and it's not like we planned this one. We haven't really been together that long – and we haven't even lived together. Not properly."

"Can soon fix that," Chibs shrugged. "I meant it when I asked you to move in wi' me at the hospital and the offer still stands, love. I don't want you thinking I'm just trying to steamroll ahead now because o' the baby. I mean, 'course it's a factor. I want to take care o' you, both o' you. But, like I said, I just want you wi' me, my darlin', by my side. Simple as that. And I'll have you know, there are some benefits to shacking up wi' an aul' man like me - I am pretty well housebroken by now."

"I just don't want you to feel, like … obligated. To stay with me, I mean," she said, only for him to scoff at the mere idea.

"_Obligated!_ Fuck me, darlin', I'm over here counting my lucky stars a wee lass like you had any interest in the first place," he declared, giving her a little squeeze as he planted a kiss on her lips.

"I'm serious, Filip."

"So am I! I know when I'm punching above my weight," he grinned. "Thought I was doing well getting you into bed – never expected to get to keep ya."

"Guess I didn't exactly see myself hanging on to the big, bad Samcro president either …" Eden mused.

"That's because you, my gorgeous girl, have no fucking clue how perfect you are."

"Is this you turning up the charm so I'll move in with you?"

"Is it working?"

"Hmm, I could be persuaded …"

* * *

With his head in a fitness magazine while he lounged on the couch, Seth only looked up when he realised his sister was stood in front of him in leggings and a slouchy, oversized sweater, her hair left loose around her shoulders. She had a slightly strange expression on her face as she shifted awkwardly, clearly having something to say, and even the biker by her side looked a little uncomfortable as he let her fingers curl around his.

"If you're here to apologise…" Seth started, pulling his headphones down to rest around his neck. "… for having sex in my bathroom, don't bother. Headphones. Didn't hear a thing – and I'd prefer to keep it that way. As long as you didn't flood the place, there are some things I just don't need to know."

"We were just talking!" Eden corrected him, blushing furiously while Chibs tried and failed to hide a grin.

"Okay," Seth shrugged, sceptical but willing to gloss swiftly over it regardless, trying to turn his attention back to the article he'd been reading.

"No, wait!" his sister tried. "There is, uh, something you need to know …"

"Oh, okay – hang on, let me just go grab another beer. You guys want anything?

"Seth, can you just … stop a minute please? Sit down."

But the boxing coach was already on his feet, although he did stop in his tracks at that. "No one ever gets told to sit down for anything good," he said slowly, rounding on the couple with suspicion clear on his face. "What's going on? Is it to do with the club? If you've gotten her into trouble …"

"Well, not the kind o' trouble you're thinking," Chibs muttered wryly, wiping a hand over his face, even as Eden shot him a warning look.

"Look, Seth, you know I love you-"

"Fuck, it must be bad."

"Will you let me speak?! I love you and I love living with you. You were there for me when I really needed you, helped me get back on my feet and I'm so grateful for that. I owe you so much. No, let me finish … It's just, well, you know it wasn't really meant to be a permanent thing and, uh, a lot has changed …"

Understanding passed over Seth's face and he relaxed just a little. "Ah, I get it. You want to move out. To move in with him?"

Glancing at Chibs with a tiny smile, Eden nodded slowly, studying her brother's reaction as if trying to read what was going on in his mind.

"You don't owe me anything, kiddo, and you don't have to ask permission. But are you sure you know what you're doing here?" Seth asked her seriously, throwing a glance of his own Chibs' way. "No offence, man."

She nodded again, her fingers tightening around the Scotsman's. "I'm not a little girl anymore," she said lightly.

"No, I know," he sighed. "But you'll always be my baby sister and I just want what's best for you. It is a big step, you know, and you've had a helluva lot going on."

"I know," Eden said, with a soft smile for her favourite sibling, before taking a deep breath and steeling herself to reveal the real news. "But it is for the best. Being with Filip, moving in with him. I love him, Seth, and he loves me, and … and we're … I mean, I'm …"

"What the lass is trying to say is, well, we're expecting," Chibs said finally, seeing his old lady was struggling to find the right words.

"Expecting what?" Seth said blankly, waiting for the rest of the sentence.

"Uh, a baby?" Eden supplied tentatively, her heart sinking even as a dark look crossed her brother's face.

"Is this some kind of wind-up?" Seth demanded, staring at the couple in front of him in disbelief. "Please tell me you're not actually serious."

"Seth …"

"Have you lost your damn minds? How could you be so fucking irresponsible, Eden?!" he exploded, stepping towards his taken aback sister, before being blocked by Chibs who calmly placed himself between them.

"All right, settle down. Don't be yelling at your wee sister like that, mate …"

"And you! You don't waste any time, do you? Everything she's been through and you think knocking her up is the answer – you've been back together five fucking minutes, for Christ's sake! Not so long ago, you were screwing my goddamn receptionist, remember?"

Chibs' jaw tightened at that, even before he saw how Eden's eyes welled up and tears spilled down her cheeks before she could blink them away.

"That's _enough_," the biker said, his words a low, warning growl. "You're upsetting my old lady."

"_I'm_ upsetting her!" Seth echoed furiously, even as something twisted guiltily in his stomach at the obvious truth in that. "Jesus Christ … How the hell can you even know you're pregnant? You literally couldn't be more than a couple of weeks, unless you couldn't even wait to get out of the fucking hospital!"

"Twelve," Eden whispered, dashing at her eyes with the end of her sleeve, not even meeting his stunned gaze. "Well, nearly thirteen now."

They could see the exact moment the maths clicked in his head, but the brutal punch that caught Chibs full in the face still seemed to come out of nowhere, making Eden cry out and grab her brother's arm to stop him doing it again.

"_Seth!_"

"Easy, pet," Chibs managed, touching a hand to his jaw. "I probably had that coming, all things considered."

"You got my sister pregnant and then broke her fucking heart, you bastard – she might be quick to forgive and forget, but I'd say that's the least you deserve."

"Seth, please don't be like this …" Eden tried tearfully, only to be shrugged off angrily by her brother. That was all Chibs needed to make up his mind.

"You know what? You wanna take this out on me, fine. But I ain't having Eden stuck in the middle," he said firmly, already steering her towards the door. "When you've calmed the fuck down, you know where we'll be. Charlie'll be round for some o' her stuff. If you've any bloody decency, you'll let him-"

"Oh, you wanna talk about _decency_, asshole …" Seth interrupted hotly, but Chibs had already herded a protesting Eden out the door and slammed it behind them, prompting her to fully burst into distraught tears.

"Shhh, my darlin', shhh," the biker sighed, gathering her into his arms and petting her hair soothingly. "Now, now, don't cry, love. He'll come around, you'll see. Shhh, that's a good girl. Come on, let's go home."

* * *

"Look, no questions, lad," Chibs sighed, slapping a concerned looking Charlie on the shoulder. "Just go round Seth's, throw some things o' Eden's in a bag – and, oi, no rummaging round her knicker drawer, you hear me?"

"Is Eden okay?" the young man asked, in clear defiance of the _no questions_ rule. "Did she have a fight with Seth? Because it must have been bad if she can't even go round there …"

Realising there was every chance that Seth himself would say something revealing about the situation when the prospect turned up on his doorstep, Chibs gave in and pulled Charlie inside, propelling him through to the kitchen and making him sit down.

"Right, not a word to anyone back at the clubhouse or I'll have your guts. Eden's pregnant and, well, it turns out big bro didn't take too kindly to the news."

"Eden's pregnant? You and Eden are having a baby?" Charlie asked, wide-eyed. "Holy shit!"

"Aye, that's what I said. More or less," Chibs said wryly, although he couldn't help smiling just a little at the young man's reaction. "You ain't winding up to punch me too, are ya, son?"

"Seth punched you?" the prospect said, his face falling and only becoming more downcast as he mulled that over. "Shit. W-what do you need me to do? Because I … I know it's bad he punched you, but I like Seth and I don't want to do anything that'll hurt Eden. He's still her brother. Although if he's being a dick to her …"

"No one's getting hurt," the Samcro president sighed, touching his still throbbing jaw tentatively. "Apart from me apparently. Don't worry, kid – this'll all blow over in a day or two, once Seth gets used to the idea o' being an uncle."

"I don't get the big deal. He's already an uncle," Charlie shrugged. "Their sister has twin boys. They're identical. Eden showed me pictures …"

"Jesus, I'd forgot she said there were twins in the family. And here's me still getting me head round the prospect o' being a da again to one wee one! You're the first person I've told."

"I am?" As if he'd forgotten his place, Charlie stood up at that, straightening up and holding out a solemn hand to his president and sponsor. "Congratulations, boss."

Touched by the simple gesture, Chibs grinned despite himself and took the proffered hand, shaking it firmly before pulling the prospect into a warm backslapping hug. "Thanks, Charlie-Boy. Listen, why don't you go up, have a wee word wi' Eden? See if there's anything she needs? Glimpse o' a friendly face might cheer her up."

"No problem," Charlie nodded readily. "Whatever you need. Both of you."

Thinking of his tearful old lady curled up in his bed, Chibs could only heave a sigh.

"Wish I knew, lad. Wish I knew."


	46. Chapter 46

**Forty-Six**

"Any other business?" Chibs asked, glancing around at his men from the head of the reaper table as they shook their heads. "No? Well, then I do actually have something I gotta tell you all …"

Eyebrows raised at that, little frowns crossing faces as the gathered Sons wondered what was coming.

"I'm gonna have to lean on you lot a wee bit more over the next few months," Chibs said seriously. "Trust you to step up and take care o' shit when I need to stick closer to home, to my old lady."

"Eden ain't sick, is she?" Tig asked, sudden concern in his sharp gaze.

"Not exactly," Chibs said, lowering his head to try to hide the grin already tugging at his lips and failing miserably. "She's pregnant, boys. Just about three months gone. My girl's having my baby."

"Well, I'll be damned," Quinn grinned. "Nice work, you old dog."

The others all jumped in to offer their own words of congratulations, drumming their hands on the wooden tabletop in applause of sorts before getting to their feet to go and hug their president or slap him on the back. All except Tig who sat rooted to the spot.

"Tiggy?" Chibs tried, bemused by the look on his VP's face.

"Are you _crying?_" Rat asked in disbelief, leaning in for a better look, only to get a none-too-gentle hand in the face pushing him away.

"I'm so damn happy for you, my brother," Tig finally managed, his blue eyes indeed shining with tears as he looked only at Chibs and completely ignored the rest of their crew and their good-natured ribbing.

"Ah, Tigger," the Scotsman laughed, touched by the unexpected show of emotion. "C'mere, ya soft git."

Pulling his closest remaining brother out of his seat and into a warm hug, Chibs planted a kiss on Tig's cheek and blinked back threatening tears of his own, realising exactly what was in his right-hand man's mind. The two of them had been left to deal with the fall-out from so much violence, death and destruction. A spark of new life was a blessing they could never have seen coming.

They all spilled out of the room and into the bar, only to find Eden waiting there anxiously, clearly having known that the news was going to be shared with them.

Tig was the first person to reach her, even ahead of her old man, holding out his arms to let her step into what turned out to be a surprisingly tender hug.

"You make him so happy, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. "Anything you need, I'm here. Anything."

"Thanks, Tig," she said, surprised by the extent of his response, but quickly swept up by the rest of the guys, getting more hugs and kisses on the cheek as they congratulated her warmly.

"Congrats, doll," Bug grinned, lifting her just a little way off her feet in his enthusiastic hug. "You just shout if me and Bonnie can help with anything, yeah?"

"Oi, you lot put my girl down," Chibs demanded, finally striding over to intervene, but smiling broadly as he patted Bug on the back to send him on his way, before turning his attention to Eden and taking her in his arms. "Think they're happy for us, darlin'."

"Looks that way," she smiled softly, settling her arms around his neck and lifting her lips to his for a little kiss, giggling as cheers and whistles rang out when he shamelessly pulled her closer.

"Careful, man!" TO hollered. "That's how the hell she ended up that way!"

Breaking apart, the couple went to join the Sons already raising a drink to toast them, happily shrugging off the fact it wasn't even lunchtime now they had the excuse of something to celebrate.

"How you feeling, pet?" Chibs asked, eyeing his old lady as she sipped a glass of orange juice served up by Charlie. "Hang on – is that shit actually freshly squeezed?"

Charlie shrugged from behind the bar. "I got some stuff in just for Eden. Thought she'd get bored drinking water all the time. There's proper OJ, real lemonade, even got some non-alcoholic beers. Don't really understand the point, but I figured what the hell."

Chibs' eyebrows shot up before he exchanged a glance with Eden who just smiled and tilted her glass at him.

"Well, well, looking after the president's missus – that's either some smart thinking or some serious arse-kissing right there," he smirked. "Good work, Charlie-Boy. Now, as I was saying, you good, lass?"

Eden wrinkled her nose in response. "I'm okay," she sighed, trying to keep her tone light. "Just wish Seth could be happy for us like the guys."

"You talked to him yet?"

She shook her head, getting a knowing look from Chibs.

"You tried?

She shook her head again.

"Eden …"

"You don't think _he_ should be the one reaching out to me?" she demanded hotly. "He pretty much called me a reckless slut!"

"He called you irresponsible, love – he didn't call you a slut," Chibs rationalised. "That's a line I wouldn't let him cross."

"He punched you in the face! Why are you defending him?"

"Because he's your brother and you love him. And because I know he loves you and he's only trying to protect his wee sister. How can I be mad about that, huh? I ain't happy that he's upset you, but I ain't exactly blameless on that front either. Talk to him, Eden. The longer you leave it, the harder it'll be."

Eden glowered at him over her glass and then conceded the point with a little groan. "Why do you have to be so sensible?"

"'Cause I got an old lady and a wee baby to think about," he said smugly, slipping an arm around her waist to give her a little squeeze. "Drink your juice, there's a good girl."

"You're still coming with me to my scan this afternoon, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, darlin'," Chibs said, dropping a kiss on top of her head.

* * *

He should have known his day wouldn't be as straight-forward as he'd hoped though. History alone should have taught him that much.

The drama didn't even come from the obvious direction though. His call with Fiona to arrange for Kerrianne to spend some time with him before they headed back to Belfast went smoothly. It was amicable even, despite the underlying tension of knowing he was going to have to break the news that the teenager was going to be a big sister sooner rather than later and she was already put out that Fiona hadn't let her come along on her initial visit to the clubhouse. Much as he loved the thought of precious time with his baby girl, Chibs just hoped to God she wouldn't give his old lady too hard a time, given everything she'd already been through lately.

With that in mind, he was just glad Eden hadn't been at the garage when an unmarked van rolled up in the lot at speed, the side door sliding open and—

"Eden Moore?"

For once, club shit would keep. He'd left Tig and Happy with orders to keep the bloodshed to a minimum until he got back and made it to the hospital with mere minutes to spare. Now, all he could focus on was the hand clutching his and then that little blob on the screen – seeing and hearing the tiny heart that made his own swell with immeasurable pride, but that also reminded him exactly how high the stakes were. When Samcro had been threatened by the kind of deadly chaos that threatened to swallow them whole, he'd just about managed to convince himself that at least he'd done what he could to keep his family safe. Jimmy O was dead and gone and Fi was strong enough, resilient enough, to keep herself and Kerri safe. He'd hated the prospect of checking out on them, on his brothers, but he'd come to terms with it being a definite possibility.

As Jax's sergeant, he'd have taken a bullet for him. That hadn't changed with the VP patch. If anything, he could see that the dark path the younger man had turned down only made going out in a hail of gunfire all the more likely.

But now … Now, he needed to be there for Eden, for their baby. He knew his girl was stronger than she realised, but he just didn't want her to have to be.

Given a few minutes alone with each other to take everything in, neither of them could tear their gaze from the monitor for a long moment. Chibs finally broke the silence, raising Eden's hand held in both of his to his lips to press a lingering kiss to her knuckles.

"You got no idea what this means to me, my darlin'," he murmured, seeing her blow out a shaky breath. "You doing okay?"

Eden nodded, but she still looked a little unsure as her free hand settled tentatively on her stomach and Chibs rose up from his seat to kiss her forehead in reassurance.

"Talk to me, pet."

"Sorry," she whispered, clearly trying not to get tearful. "Shit, I'm just all over the place right now. What if … What if I can't do this?"

"Eden, you're gonna be a cracking wee mum to our baby. Why the hell would you think any different?"

"I dunno. I just ... God, I never used to cry at the drop of a damn hat! Look at me, I'm a mess …"

"Oh darlin'," Chibs chuckled, but there was sympathy in his warm brown eyes as he made her look at him and then brushed tears from beneath her eyes with his thumbs. "You're pregnant – your emotions are bound to be going fucking crazy."

"It's just a lot."

"It is," he agreed. "But I'm gonna take care o' you, you know that, right? I … Shit, darlin', I never want to make you feel like I'm always comparing, so I ain't gonna keep bringing it up, but … I never got to do all this before. When Fi was pregnant, I missed so much. Wasn't even there when she gave birth. Some o' that was my fault, some o' it was out o' my control. But it weren't how I wanted it to be. How it should be. I ain't been much o' a dad to Kerri, I know that. And I know I can't get that time back, can't make up for what I lost, but this … This is my chance to do things right."

"I know," Eden nodded, taking his hand again. "And I know you will."

But he wasn't done there.

"I want to be a good dad to our wee one, a good husband to my girl," he said, watching for her reaction and smiling wryly at the way her eyebrows shot up in question. "I know I ain't got any right to ask you yet, not when things aren't settled between me and Fi – I just want you to know that, in my eyes, being my old lady don't make you any less. A piece o' paper between me and Fi is just a technicality. You're the one I want, the one I've got. You're my wife in every way that matters. And one day I'll make it official. If you'll have me."

Eden ducked her head and when she lifted it again, her green eyes were bright with tears, but she was smiling and he was relieved to see it.

"That was the sweetest almost-proposal I've ever heard," she teased. "I almost said yes."

"Wee minx," Chibs grinned, leaning in to steal a kiss. "Now, where the hell's that doc gone? 'Cause I'm gonna need an extra copy o' that scan to pin on the no smoking sign going up in the bar …"

"You can't actually ban smoking in the clubhouse, Filip," Eden laughed, trying to imagine the outraged faces of his brothers. Not to mention their usual guests.

"Watch me. Fuckers got legs – going outside ain't gonna kill 'em."

"My badass, health conscious biker," she grinned. "Never thought I'd see the day."

* * *

If he hadn't been held up, he could have driven Eden to her appointment instead of having to meet her there. Frustrating as that had been, at least he hadn't missed it completely. He'd have felt like a real arsehole if he had, after everything he'd promised her about being there for her. But also, he'd just really wanted to be there to see for himself that evidence of the tiny spark of life they'd created together and to be reassured that his girl's ordeal hadn't dealt them unexpected consequences. He knew he had a hell of a lot to be grateful for.

His juggling of priorities did mean that he had to let her drive herself home again while he followed closely on his bike. And it wasn't close enough for his liking. Oh, he knew she was as safe as she could be – she never left his sight and he'd have zero issue gunning down an entire street if it meant protecting her. But, much as he wouldn't normally choose driving a cage over his bike, being behind the wheel of Eden's car would have allowed him to curl a hand around her knee and to have her hand settle contentedly on top of his. He could have stolen a kiss at every stop light, snuck glances at her as she sang along with the radio under her breath.

He felt like a goddamn lovestruck teenager, but he didn't give a shit. If he'd thought she was incredible before, knowing she was having his baby only deepened everything he felt for her.

He'd already reluctantly told her he was needed by the guys and he knew she was probably expecting him to peel past when she finally pulled her car into the driveway of his house – _their_ house now – but instead, he pulled his bike over, catching up with her on the doorstep.

"Didn't you have somewhere to be?" Eden asked, fishing in her bag for the spare set of keys he'd given her.

"Forgot something," Chibs shrugged, pushing his shades up into his hair, but before she could ask what, he'd wrapped her up in his arms, making her squeak in surprise when she found herself lifted off her feet and spun around as he kissed her deeply.

Her laugh melted into a murmur of pleasure as she clung to him and he pressed her up against the front door, both of them lost in kiss after kiss.

Eden bit her lip when they finally pulled apart, leaning against the doorframe for support. "Get what you needed?" she asked, her cheeks flushed.

That alone had Chibs leaning in for one more rough, and all too brief, kiss. "Not everything," he all but growled. "But I will …"

To a thoroughly flustered Eden, it sounded like the most delicious kind of threat.

"Hurry home," she managed, swallowing hard at the hungry look in his dark eyes.

* * *

Home.

For the first time in a long time, it felt like that was what he had. A home to call his own. Not just a house. A shell. No, he had a home now. A family that went beyond the club, that wasn't thousands of miles away.

So why the fuck was he back on his bike and speeding away from everything he'd ever wanted?

Because the reaper on his back might as well be seared in flesh instead of leather. Because the club was part of his life, part of him, and he couldn't turn away from it. Couldn't renege on his duty, abandon his brothers. Not as a patch, and definitely not as their leader.

_Cabin._

The one-word text told him to bypass the clubhouse and he was actually glad of the longer ride. With every mile eaten up by his Harley, with every mile put between him and Eden, the necessary transformation from doting father-to-be to ruthless MC president was a little more complete.

By the time he pulled off the road and onto little more than a dirt track, the lightness in his heart was gone, replaced by a weight on his shoulders and a hard look on his face that only set more grimly when he parked up and climbed off his bike, hooking his shades through the top pocket of his cut.

Tig met him before he could reach the back door.

"How'd it go with Eden?" his VP asked, as they hugged in greeting.

"Aye, good," Chibs relented enough to confirm, but his jaw tightened and his fists clenched in their black leather gloves as he glanced towards the hunting cottage that had been much loved by the club's First Nine and long since made use of by the generation that followed them. "That ain't a conversation to taint wi' this shite though."

Tig understood and said no more on the subject, instead jerking his head towards the ajar door. "He's sticking to his story. Not even Happy can shake him."

"You believe him?"

The curly-haired VP hesitated. "Believing him and trusting him ain't the same thing."

Chibs considered that and then sighed. "Guess I better hear this story for mesel' then. Come on, before Hap loses patience and cuts his bloody tongue out."

He headed inside, taking in the main room of the cabin with a cold indifference, acknowledging his sergeant and the look of grim pleasure on his face and a slightly queasy looking Rat with a single nod. His arms folded across his chest as he turned to square up to their guest, his lip curling ever so slightly in something that could have been anger or disgust.

The other man's head hung heavy until he heard Chibs' boots on the wooden floor and lifted it with difficulty.

"C-Chibs Telford," he slurred, not without some difficulty, his tongue seeming too big for his mouth and his lips too swollen for his ruin of a face. "I've … been asking … for you."

"Archie Vane," Chibs drawled, eyeing the tightly knotted ropes keeping the rival biker secured to one of the exposed ceiling beams. "What the fuck do you want?"


	47. Chapter 47

**Forty-Seven**

"What the hell makes you think you'll get anything out o' me other than a bullet in your goddamn head?"

Archie fought to hold his head up weakly, one side of his face a puckered mess of still raw burns from the explosion he'd found himself caught up in and the other just battered and bruised. "What h-happened … back at the cookhouse … I didn't know-"

"What? That your club, oh, just happened to take my old lady hostage?" Chibs snapped. "Held a gun to her head, terrorised her, beat the shit out o' her?"

"It wasn't m-me …"

"She's fucking PREGNANT, ya scummy bastard!" the furious Samcro president roared, a gloved hand shooting out to wrap around the other man's throat and tightening like a vise. "I swore to mesel' if we made it out, I'd wipe your fucking stain o' a club off the face o' the earth for what that lass went through. That was _before_ I knew she was carrying my child!"

The bulging eyes may have been a result of his target struggling for air, but there was no doubting the shock and horror that had crossed that ruin of a face staring back at him.

"I … d-didn't … know!" Archie choked out, coughing and spluttering when the grip on his throat finally let up just enough to let him gulp down a few ragged breaths. "Is she … Is the baby …? I s-swear I didn't know, man!"

Chibs ignored the question, finally letting go his hold completely and taking a couple of steps back to try to rein in his temper. "Why her?" he demanded. "Hell o' a coincidence, don't you think?"

"I k-know how it looks," Archie managed, still coughing and trying to clear his throat. "But far as I know, it was just … just wrong place, wrong time. Mack needed a medic. Any medic. He knew he'd fucked up going behind the club's back. Getting help for Johnny was … I dunno, his idea of damage control."

Chibs shook his head incredulously at that. "Not exactly what you'd call successful, was it?" he said. "When you're in a hole, traditionally it's time to stop bloody digging!"

Archie hung his shaven head. "I know. I … I know. I should have kept a closer eye on Mack. I knew he was a risk. Getting into meth, trying to get into guns – Johnny wanted us to be taken more seriously and Mack egged him on, but it scared the shit outta some of our guys. We ain't the Sons, no matter what a few of them might like to think. Keeping it going when things got tight was all Mack. Even Johnny knew when it was time to shut down. But Mack … He always had to push things too far. Ain't surprised it got him killed in the end. I just … I guess I just hoped maybe he wouldn't take us all down with him."

"And yet here you are."

Defeated blue eyes lifted from the floor to meet the Samcro president's dark glare, resigned to whatever fate lay in store. "Here I am."

* * *

Gazing down at the scan picture in her hand as she curled up on the couch, Eden felt like the reality of her situation was only just starting to sink in and she traced a fingertip lightly over the image.

She was going to be a mom to an actual tiny human entirely dependent on her.

It wasn't something she'd really thought about, not with the kind of startling clarity now crashing in on her. Vague notions of children, sure – that whole _sometime_ line. And then there'd been the unease that had crept in when Shane had asked her to marry him. She had to admit she'd been caught up in the fairytale he'd spun, but with hindsight, she realised the doubts had been there long before their relationship had imploded.

It was the assumption that it was all a given that had rankled for her. The unspoken acceptance of the status quo. The big wedding in front of family, friends and colleagues, the exotic honeymoon, and then life as the wife of a soon-to-be eminent surgeon. She wouldn't go back to work, of course. Why would she? It couldn't possibly be that she loved her job, her independence. No, no, it just made sense that the more successful of the two of them would be the breadwinner. Besides, Shane had always wanted a big family – making up for his own difficult upbringing. The little lady would be kept busy popping out kids and playing house …

Much as her world had spiralled out of control before crumbling in on itself and threatening to destroy her, Eden now knew that the fizzling out of her engagement had in fact been something of a relief. Oh, she'd been a mess, all things considered – feeling betrayed, abandoned, distraught at being left to face everything else she was going through alone. But even then, a tiny voice had been whispering in her ear that it was for the best.

That voice had only gotten louder since then.

She had loved Shane once. Or at least had been convinced that she loved him. But maybe it was just familiarity. Going along with what had become comfortable. Easy.

Except that comfort had already been slipping away. She didn't want to give up her job. She didn't care if Shane ended up making millions, she didn't want to be entirely dependent on him or anyone else for that matter. And she definitely didn't want to be left with a houseful of children while he kept chasing his dream career, trotting her out when he wanted to play the family man in front of anyone it paid to cosy up to.

And for some reason, nothing Shane said or did could ease her fears. Not that she voiced them quite so plainly. But, for all she'd tried to convince herself he was everything a woman could possibly want … The pieces of the puzzle just didn't quite fit.

It was like Shane only wanted what he thought others expected him to have.

She hadn't been able to put her finger on it that clearly back then, but that was it in a nutshell. She had never actually felt like the love of his life – just another box to tick off. Devoted wife? Check. Three or four well-behaved, seen-and-not-heard children? I'll get right on it.

Now, knowing how he had let her down when she needed him the most, the thought of the mistake she had been prepared to make almost made Eden's blood run cold. That ring she had once worn, with its huge glittering diamond, might as well have been a ball and chain.

But once she'd taken it off … She'd never really been able to picture herself letting anyone get too close again. Finding out you had completely misplaced your trust could do that to a girl.

How things had changed all over again though.

Here she was in a still relatively new relationship – with a married biker whose criminal record was probably older than her – with no ring, no prospect of a wedding, and a pregnancy neither of them had banked on.

And yet, leaving aside the added trauma of everything that had gone down with Mack and the waves of fear and guilt that kept sweeping over her without warning, she was somehow happier than she'd ever been.

Or at least she would be if her brother would pull his head out of his ass.

"Your Uncle Seth's gonna love you so much," she said softly, her hand grazing her stomach. "He just needs to give your daddy a chance."

Conscious of the little smile tugging at her lips as she gazed in wonder at the scan she still clutched, she couldn't help picturing the look on Chibs' face as he'd stared at the monitor back in that hospital exam room. Stunned as she knew he had been when she'd broken the news about the baby, she didn't have to doubt how he felt now – not when it was written so clearly across every inch of his scarred face.

The big bad Samcro president was already utterly devoted to his unborn son or daughter.

And seeing that was all the proof Eden needed that she could trust him completely. With her heart, with her life, with being the father of her child.

She just wished Seth could see it too.

Her brother had always been there for her. _Always._ When she was tiny and he was the one trusted to look after her, reading to her, letting her watch him spar, teaching her to ride a bike. When their father died so suddenly and she'd cried herself to sleep in his arms every night for a week. She loved her mom, loved her sister, but Seth had always been the one she idolised. That was just the way it was.

And he had been there at the darkest time in her life, with his unfailing, unconditional, unlimited support. Even when it seemed like it would cost him everything he had.

How could he turn his back on her now?

Taking a deep breath, and before she could talk herself out of it, Eden grabbed her phone again and snapped a quick picture of the scan.

_Can we talk?_

She attached the picture to the text message and fired it off, adding another message as an afterthought.

_Please, Uncle Seth? x_

Then, while she was on a roll, she brought up another number in her contact and hit the call button – surprised when it only rang a few times before being picked up.

"Hey, mom," she said softly. "I half expected you to be busy … I know I usually call later, but I just … I just wanted to talk to you ..."

* * *

Leaning against the cabin wall, Chibs tilted his head back and closed his eyes as he blew out a slow stream of smoke from his cigarette.

"You believe this shite?" he asked his vice president, without opening his eyes. "Him getting picked up by some dead meth-head's white trash family and conveniently dumped in our laps?"

"Does actually check out," Tig shrugged. "Bug ran the plate from the van, traced it to a James Earl Cleary. That, my friend, would be the guy who had the misfortune to spawn little Jimmy-Ray Cleary. Found dead as a doornail in that shithole of a cookhouse, bullet in his back. I'm guessing someone's out for blood as payback."

"So some cracker bastards blame the War Boys for killing one of theirs – why deliver him to us?"

"Peace offering?" Tig suggested. "Word's bound to be out we're looking into the meth connection to April's death. Maybe this is their way of trying to get us to lay all the blame at another MC's door and leave them the fuck alone."

"Hmm, maybe …" Chibs mused, eyeing his brother as he took to pacing back and forth while he tried to think things through and come up with a next move. "What d'ya make o' Vane's claim he's done wi' the War Boys?"

Tig's nose wrinkly in distaste. "I dunno, man. Normally, anyone who turns their back on their club … Nah, that shit just ain't right. But in this case, we know these assholes ain't got a clue. Realising your Mickey Mouse outfit's led by a jackass out of his depth? Maybe this guy ain't as dumb as the rest of them."

Chibs acknowledged that with a little incline of his head, before pinching the bridge of his nose wearily. Fuck, he did not have the energy for this bullshit right now, resenting every second he had to spend worrying about some tinpot MC when he could be focusing on his old lady. His pregnant, most likely traumatised old lady.

"Whatever you wanna do, boss," Tig said, as if he'd read his mind. "Me and Hap can handle it, one way or the other. Get rid, or keep him here until you've had a chance to think. Keep him quiet. You can go check in with that girl of yours."

"Ah, Tiggy," Chibs said, clapping a fond hand on his shoulder. "I know you always saw yoursel' as the enforcer, the sergeant, never a leader, but how you've stepped up for me, my brother. I couldn't do any o' this without you, you know that, right?"

Tig's blue eyes shone bright at that, that little smile he got when he felt uncomfortable crossing his sharp features as he glanced away into the distance. "I got a lot to atone for," he said quietly.

Chibs considered that for a moment and then just planted a kiss on his cheek, patting his chest as he turned to walk away. Ghosts weighing heavily on the soul, that was something he understood.

* * *

Having used the ride home to try to clear his head, at least for a short time, Chibs finally pulled his bike into the driveway and let himself in, calling out to Eden to avoid startling her. Her reply that she was in the kitchen wasn't really necessary though, given that he could hear the radio playing from that part of the house, but he couldn't help smiling to see her looking at home in the place he had lived alone for so long, singing softly to herself as she stirred something on the stove that made his mouth water.

He crossed the room to wrap his arms around her from behind, kissing first her neck and then her lips when she half turned to smile at him over her shoulder.

"I promise this ain't always gonna be the way o' it, baby," he murmured, as he held her against him. "You stuck home, slaving over a hot stove while I'm out galivanting wi' the boys."

"I made chilli," Eden said wryly. "I don't think I've been consigned to a life of servitude just yet. But just a heads up, if you are hoping for some kind of domestic goddess, you picked the wrong girl, buddy."

Chibs smirked at that, letting a hand slip to give her ass a little squeeze as he stole another kiss before letting her go. "You're all the goddess I need," he grinned, before being shooed out of the way. "Can I do anything?"

"Nope, I'm nearly done. Grab a beer, pull up a seat."

Doing as he was told, Chibs shrugged off his cut and hung it over the back of a chair before sinking down at the table with a contented little sigh. "You reach out to Seth?" he asked casually, toying with the heavy gold rings on his fingers as Eden pottered around putting the finishing touches to dinner.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did actually."

"And?"

"And he hasn't replied," Eden said lightly, keeping her attention focused on the task in hand, slicing up a loaf of fresh crusty bread.

"Babe …"

"It's okay. I just … have to wait for him to come around, right?" she said, clearly trying to keep the sadness out of her voice, but not quite pulling it off and changing the subject instead. "I did talk to my mom though."

"Yeah? How'd that go?"

"She's pretty pissed she still hasn't met you, considering you're making her a grandma again."

"Still? So she does at least know about me?"

"Oh yeah," she confirmed. "Not the whole story exactly, but I had told her there was someone I was seeing. Kinda glossed over the biker part, although I did tell her you were older."

"And she didn't come storming out here to rescue her wee girl from the big, bad man?"

"No, she said some stuff about experience that would only make me blush to repeat it and then had to hang up because she was late for cocktails with the girls."

Chibs snorted at that. "I reckon I'm gonna like your ma. So, no clutching her pearls over you suddenly being pregnant then?"

"Really not her style," Eden said, smiling when he interrupted her laying out cutlery to gently tug her down onto his lap. "I mean, she was kinda shocked, I guess. But hey, at least she took it better than Seth."

"Good," Chibs said, pressing a kiss to her temple as she laid her head on his shoulder. "As long as she don't pack the same punch …"

"I wouldn't challenge her, if I was you," his old lady shrugged teasingly. "Just in case."


	48. Chapter 48

**Forty-Eight**

Sitting at the end of the bed to check in with Tig via his burner phone how their unexpected guest was faring back at the cabin, Chibs couldn't help smiling despite himself when he glanced up to see Eden twisting and turning in front of the full length mirror in the corner of the room.

In her usual clothes, it was still unlikely anyone bar the most eagle-eyed observer would notice anything different, but in the cute, clingy little nightie she'd changed into to sleep, there was no longer any doubting the slight swell of her stomach and it was clearly that small beginning of a bump that had her nose wrinkling critically.

"Don't be looking like that, lass," he half scolded, half teased, grinning when her reflection only stuck her tongue out at him. "And don't be sticking that out unless you're sure you wanna use it. C'mere to me."

She did as she was told, padding barefoot across the room as his dark eyes swept from those tan bare legs to the long hair that tumbled freely down her back in soft waves, and then back to the obvious sign of their child growing inside her. She shifted her weight from foot to foot under the heat of his gaze, ducking her head as her cheeks flushed lightly.

Fuck, it did things to him he couldn't even put into words.

He still couldn't get his head around this incredible woman being his in the first place, so the fact she was going to make him a father again just about blew his damn mind.

"Could give a girl a complex staring like that, Telford," Eden said softly, making him realise he had in fact just lost himself in drinking in the sight of her.

Chibs beckoned her closer with a finger, a slow smile tugging at his lips as she straddled his lap, her arms around his shoulders and that little nightie he was definitely appreciating hiked up around her thighs, leaving his hands free to caress the exposed bare skin. She gave him a tiny kiss, just a tantalising taste of soft, warm lips, and then another, making him wrap her up in a loving cuddle with a contented little sigh.

"You, right now, my wee baby in your belly … You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, my darlin'," he murmured, his lips pressed against her bare shoulder as her fingers trailed lazily through his hair. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered, tilting his head up so she could give him another of those sweet little kisses. "I've never wanted this with anyone else …"

The biker captured her mouth with his at that, a hand burying in her hair to cradle the back of her head as he kissed her hungrily, drawing a little whimper from her at the feel of him pressing up hard against her through the rough denim of his jeans and making her shift on top of him, her hips rocking slowly against his.

"Something you're after, lass?" Chibs growled in her ear, his voice low and rough as his strong hands cupped her ass to hold her tighter against him, stilling her movements.

Eden pouted at that, her hands resting on his chest and her green eyes sparkling playfully. "It's mean to tease a hormonal pregnant woman, Filip."

He chuckled at that. "Easy now, pet, you know I'll take care o' you."

"Oh, you will, will you?"

"I will, aye," came the husky response, his hands sliding under the silky material bunched up around her thighs. "Always …"

* * *

Slumped on the couch with his boots kicked off and his feet propped up on the edge of the coffee table, Seth took another long pull of his beer, glancing at the empty bottles already lined up. He hadn't even bothered to get up to turn on the lights when darkness fell, just sitting there drinking in the glow of the television he wasn't really watching. Nothing seemed to be able to hold his attention. Well, almost nothing.

Reaching for his phone for what felt like the hundredth time, he found himself staring at those messages again. Just a grainy image and a few short words. A tiny spark of life.

_Please, Uncle Seth._

The words seemed to reverberate in his booze-soaked brain.

_Uncle Seth._

His baby sister was having a baby of her own.

He didn't know why it was such a shock to him. Maybe because he hadn't fully thought through the implications for the future of her, in his mind, less-than-ideal relationship with the Samcro president. Oh, when they'd first gotten together, he'd told Eden he would accept it. Let her live her life. And he'd meant it. But maybe part of him had never been convinced that she and Chibs would last. And he had so swiftly almost been proved right – Eden hadn't had long to wait before getting her heart broken by the older biker.

Seth took no pleasure in that. It wasn't about being right – it was just about protecting his sister, especially when she'd already been through so much. Maybe that wasn't his place, but then no one knew quite like he did exactly what she'd endured. She may have confided in Chibs, but hearing it wasn't the same as being there.

He shook off those memories with another long swig from the bottle in his hand, his racing mind flitting back to the present cause of his unease.

_Please, Uncle Seth._

He should have known Eden would be drawn back to Chibs. He wasn't blind – he could see how deep their connection ran, no matter how relatively brief their relationship. But even though it may have seemed inevitable, he'd just never really pictured what that would actually look like. Certainly hadn't imagined Chibs wanting a wife and kids again, no matter how he felt about Eden. If he was really honest, he supposed he had just assumed they'd eventually realise their differences and drift apart for good.

He could well imagine his sister's indignation at being viewed like a lovestruck teenager though. And rightly so, he reluctantly acknowledged.

Seth grimaced as he downed the rest of his beer and simply reached for another. Falling for the biker was one thing – getting knocked up so soon, by accident no less, and when they'd already broken up once … That was something else entirely. Eden wasn't stupid, or careless. And actually, he'd credited Chibs with more sense too. Out of self-preservation if nothing else. So much for that.

Having a kid was not something you jumped into blindly. Having a kid changed your life forever.

He knew that from experience.

* * *

Laid in Chibs' arms, enjoying the way his fingertips traced lazy patterns on her bare back, Eden could feel herself fighting sleep and smiled as she stifled a yawn. She knew she should just let herself drift off, but couldn't help savouring the moment of blissful peace.

"Tired, lass?"

"Mmm."

"Close yer wee eyes then. I don't have to head out again tonight. The lads have everything under control."

"That's good," she murmured, snuggling even deeper into his arms. "Although there's so much we should probably be talking about …"

"Oh aye?" the biker cracked open a wary eye at that, having already suspected he'd gotten off lightly earlier when - knowing he could hardly knock her up any more, but unsure of her trust in him when it came to not shagging around - he'd reluctantly reached for a condom as usual, only to be intercepted. Maybe she felt now was a better time to impress any red lines on him though. Now all he could think about was how good it felt to be buried bare inside her tight, wet heat. He hadn't exactly been in the right frame of mind to appreciate it last time after all. "Such as?"

"Well, how we're gonna share the bills for this place for a start."

"Ach, you don't gotta go worrying your head about that shite, love," Chibs said, half relieved that was all that was on her mind and trying to wave it off, only for her to cut him off with a shake of her head.

"Oh, no, that's not how this is gonna be, buddy," Eden said, pushing herself up out of his arms to sit wrapped in the sheets, her rumpled hair flipped over one shoulder. "I'm not living here like your … your … _lodger_."

"You ain't gonna be my lodger!" Chibs scoffed, bemused by the notion. "You'd have to pay rent for that for a start, and I wasn't planning on charging ya."

"I'm serious, Filip!" she protested, laughing despite herself. "That's how I'd feel if I didn't pay my way. Like this is _your_ home and I'm just staying here for a while. Like I'd have to cook and clean and iron your shirts to earn my keep. I'm not saying I'll _never_ do those things, but I'm a grown-ass adult with a job and money of my own and-"

"All right, all right, I get it," he held up his hands in surrender. "I don't want you feeling like a fucking guest in _our_ home. I'll … look into it. Get something sorted."

"Yeah? You promise?"

"Yes," he sighed. "I promise. Jesus. Can't a bloke just want to take care o' his missus without being left feeling like a right sexist aul' bastard?"

"Thank you," Eden simply smiled, ignoring his grumbling and dropping a little kiss on his lips before laying her head back down on his chest to get comfortable. But she could feel that he wasn't quite as relaxed as before. "What?"

"Nothing …"

"Tell me."

"Look, this wee independent streak o' yours," he blurted out. "I ain't got a problem wi' it, darlin', but, well … It ain't 'cause you reckon I ain't in this for the long haul or some shite like that, is it? Because I definitely am. This ain't something the novelty's gonna wear off."

"Glad to hear it," Eden said wryly, gesturing towards her stomach. "All things considered."

His fingers grazed lightly over the small swell of her abdomen at that, bringing a smile to his lips before his hand shifted to curl over her hip and pull her closer.

"It isn't that, honest," she told him softly.

"Good. 'Cause I mean it – you're all I want."

Eden hesitated. "What about on the road?"

The quiet question was almost lost, directed as it was into his chest as they lay snuggled up under the covers in each other's arms.

"What about it?"

She tried so hard to keep her voice casual, but couldn't quite pull it off. "Do you think there'll be … you know? Croweaters?"

Ah. There it was.

* * *

Chibs pulled back from her, his dark eyes raking over her face where a mix of emotions warred for dominance. Uncertainty was winning the battle.

"I just … I've talked to Lyla some. And I know what happens – the rules and stuff …"

"Oi," Chibs said sternly, making her close her mouth abruptly, her green eyes wide. "You listening to me?"

Eden could only nod, trying to avoid looking at him, until a finger beneath her chin tilted her face back up.

"It ain't happening," the biker said firmly. "I swear, Eden, I ain't gonna be fucking around on ya. I ain't interested in anyone else."

"Not even when I'm the size of a whale and too tired for sex 'cause your kid's been using my bladder as a football all night or something?"

Chibs leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Especially not then. No bullshit, no get outta jail cards." He regretted the choice of words at the flicker of fear in those green eyes, even though she tried to hide it.

"What if … What if you have to go inside?" Eden asked quietly.

He took a deep breath, his stomach lurching at the thought of everything he would now stand to lose out on if it did indeed come to that.

"I definitely won't be fucking around on ya," he tried to joke, but he knew what she was asking and quickly turned serious again. "I can't promise you it won't happen," he said finally. "I wish I could. And I will do everything I can to make sure it doesn't. _Everything_. But sometimes these things are gonna be beyond my control … Jax was in prison when his youngest was born, wee Tommy. Damn near killed him to think o' Tara going through that alone. Not that she was alone, but that didn't make much difference to him. He wasn't where he shoulda been, by her side. I can't stand the thought o' that for us, darlin'. If anything happens to me, I'll make sure you're supported. Protected. I know you already got family, but the club's your family too now. Anything you need, they'll always have your back."

She tried to manage a smile for him, but he could tell her heart wasn't in it.

"Sweetheart, I don't want you worrying about shite that unless you have to. Not in your condition," Chibs frowned. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. _If_ we come to it. I ain't planning on going anywhere."

But she slipped out of his arms to turn onto her back by his side, taking a shaky little breath as she stared up at the ceiling.

"Eden?" Chibs tried, reaching to caress her cheek.

"I … I think I know more about why Seth can't bring himself to talk me than I've said," she admitted in a whisper, her eyes closing as if in pain. "He's always tried to say he doesn't blame me for him going to prison and everything around that, but now … Maybe the baby just hits too raw a nerve. I think he's still trying to protect me – from the fact he wouldn't be able to keep the blame off his face anymore."

"I ain't following, darlin'. Seth loves you, you know that. The baby shouldn't change anything."

"Shouldn't it?" Eden said bitterly, shifting to reach for her phone and finally showing him the screen when she'd found what she was looking for – a picture of her, crouched on the grass and pointing at the camera as the little blond-haired boy being held in place with a arm snug around him laughed up at her happily instead.

Chibs, his hand settling protectively on his girl's stomach without him even realising it, suspected he knew where this was going.

"That's Theo," Eden said softly, her finger tracing over the little boy's image longingly. "When he was three. He was four when his dad went inside. He's my nephew. Seth's son. He's seen him like twice since he got out. His mom, Seth's wife … she couldn't get her head around what he did. The violence of it, I guess. So after everything, I get you, our baby, a chance to be happy, and Seth …"

"Shit." Chibs sighed heavily, kissing her temple as that hand on her stomach rubbed softly.

He knew the blame still shouldn't lie with Eden for any of it, but he also knew how deep it cut to be kept from your own child. Rational thinking wasn't exactly high on the agenda. Maybe he was going to have to rethink his plan to knock some sense into his old lady's brother, but he still couldn't let this drag on any longer.

It just needed a different approach.


	49. Chapter 49

**Forty-Nine**

"I ain't happy wi' this."

"You've been very clear about that, sweetie," Eden smiled gently, pausing in her packing of her medical bag to give her concerned old man a little kiss, but evading his arms and refusing to let him distract her for too long. "And I've listened to everything you've said."

"And decided to go anyway."

"Yup. Because you've told me all the reasons why I shouldn't, but you haven't flat-out told me not to. Because you know you need me. You know how bad infections can get if left untreated."

"I know. I just ain't sure I should care."

"He wasn't the one who took me, Filip. You know that deep down. You wouldn't have even told me otherwise. If it helps, I genuinely think he was furious at Mack. He knew he'd gone too far."

She was right – he did know all that. It was the only reason Archie Vane was still even breathing. That and Chibs had no fucking idea what to do with him, leaving them all trapped in a holding pattern. The younger biker's badly burned face had only taken on a more livid, inflamed quality though, leaving the Sons watching him to suspect he'd never had any kind of medical treatment since the explosion at the meth house, bar his own apparently ill-advised efforts to clean himself up completely unsuccessfully. It was clear the man was suffering and Chibs' own medical ability had only gotten them so far, plus he knew Tig was struggling to have to look at him. Hap wasn't fazed, but Tig …

They had to do something. Put the bastard out of his misery, or get him proper help. For now, it seemed tentatively broaching the subject with Eden had given them their answer.

"Fine," Chibs huffed, hands on his hips as he watched his old lady bustle about. "But you ain't ever alone wi' him. He lays a hand on you, I shoot him in the head. He says a word to you I don't like, I shoot him in the head. He even _looks_ at you in a way I don't like-"

"I think I get the picture," Eden said wryly. "You gonna carry this bag for me, or are your hands gonna be too full of guns?"

"You're not too big to put over my knee, you know, lass."

"Promises, promises," she winked, leading the way to her car.

* * *

If Chibs had been uncomfortable bringing his old lady back into this messy business with the War Boys at all, that only intensified when he pulled his bike up behind her car at the cabin and clocked the way she was sat gripping the steering wheel as she took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Shite," he muttered to himself, quickly unbuckling his helmet and climbing off the Harley to hurry over and open the driver's door of the car. "You do not have to do this, love," he told Eden firmly, but she was already grabbing her bag from the passenger's seat.

"I'm okay," she said, giving him a look at his obvious scepticism. "I am. I'm not scared – not with you here. He's just … a reminder of a lot of pretty dark shit I'd really rather forget."

"Which is exactly why I didn't want to bring you here in the first place," Chibs sighed.

"You didn't force me, Filip. I agreed. I wouldn't have if I really couldn't face it. I can help. I _want_ to help. I'm doing this for you, for the club, not for him."

Chibs cupped her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. "Let's get this shite done and get you home. I'm gonna send Tig wi' you when you're finished. Burns are … tough for him."

"Do I want to know?" Eden asked curiously at that.

"You really don't," he said grimly, shouldering her bag for her and taking her hand to lead the way across the overgrown yard, greeting his VP as he stood smoking by the back door of the cabin. "Tigger, how ya holding up, brother?"

"Fine," came the short reply, although the curly-haired biker quickly pitched his cigarette to the ground and stubbed it out under his boot at the sight of Eden, waving away any remaining smoke. "Hey, doll."

"Hi, Tig," she smiled softly, taken aback to see the pain in those piercing blue eyes and making a mental nod to push Chibs on what the story was there. Not for the sake of sheer nosiness, but out of genuine concern.

She knew Tig was something of a wild card in the MC's eclectic bunch of bikers, but she'd been so touched by his reaction to her pregnancy and she knew how loyal he was to Chibs. She also wasn't aware of any old burn injuries to him personally – and given that, among other things, he'd once dropped his pants at the clubhouse bar to show her where he'd apparently been bitten on the ass, she was pretty sure she'd seen enough of him to know – so she could only assume he had perhaps lost someone in a fire. And by the look on his face, she had to guess it was more recent than, say, a childhood trauma.

"You gonna need help in there?" Tig asked, already seeming to brace himself for the answer.

But Eden immediately shook her head. Whatever was tormenting the biker, she wasn't going to add to it. No matter what they might be facing.

"We've got it," Chibs said, patting his VP's shoulder. "You good to wait here? Keep lookout and then make sure Eden gets home?"

"Whatever you need, brother," Tig said, understanding and gratitude that he was clearly being cut some slack plain on his face.

"Good man. Right, come on, darlin'. Let's get this over wi'."

* * *

"If I have to listen to you whining for much longer, I swear I'll kill you myself! Sorry, it's just been such a stressful time and she gets hysterical. Needs to remember where her loyalties lie …"

"I'm telling you, my husband wouldn't do this!"

"Husband," came the scoffing response. "That no-good prick was always trouble, challenging Johnny any time he didn't get his way. It'd be just like him to try sabotaging things just to undermine him and now look at the mess he's made. You need to forget about him and worry about your brother, lying in hospital with one fucking leg thanks to your _husband_!"

Alyssa Vane fought back fresh tears at that, but stood her ground in her sister-in-law's cluttered kitchen. "Archie wouldn't turn on Johnny, he wouldn't. They might have butted heads, but at least he was straight with him. He wouldn't do _this!_ I don't know why he hasn't come home – if he's hurt or if someone's taken him. We need to _find_ him, Stella. You have to tell Johnny to at least get the club out looking for him or-"

"You think I can tell Johnny anything right now, the state he's in? Don't be so fucking selfish, you stupid bitch! Do you have any idea what's at stake here? Well, do you? How the hell can he keep control of the club if he can't even fucking ride? Sorry, sorry, I know he's just lucky to be alive, all things considered."

The third party to their undignified row smiled tightly at that, dark shadows under his haunted blue eyes.

"Maybe the club should be looking for this Archie, if you're so sure he's the one responsible."

"What good would that do?" Stella demanded, but she didn't dare take quite the same tone with him as she did with her hapless sister-in-law. "The club needs our focus to be here. Mourning Mack, getting Johnny out of the ICU. If Archie's run out on us, bringing him back ain't gonna fix anything."

No, as far as she was concerned, quite the opposite. Archie - the convenient scapegoat - turning up would only cast doubt on her hastily spun version of events, not to mention perhaps expose her own lack of loyalty towards Johnny. She had feared the VP had at least starting to suspect something was amiss about the exact nature of her relationship with Mack and, much as she was inwardly reeling at the loss of her illicit lover, her pragmatic side had already kicked into self-preservation mode.

No good could come of their affair being exposed now. Not when her only hope of clinging to some semblance of power was in acting as Johnny's representative. Oh, naturally it wouldn't sit well to have a woman calling the shots, but if she could convince their dwindling members that she was simply giving voice to their precious president during his recovery – and that also meant convincing them there was actually a chance of recovery, which hadn't been too problematic so far, having simply neglected to tell them about the amputation – then there was at least a chance they would come to accept the unconventional set-up. If Alyssa didn't open her trap. And if Archie didn't suddenly reappear with a very different tale to tell.

That was a lot more _ifs_ than she was comfortable with.

Not to mention the added complication of their unexpected guest, even if she was intrigued by him. He had a lot of questions though, which was understandable, she had to allow. Understandable, but problematic.

Turning up the sympathy, Stella laid a hand on his arm, her fingers caressing the clearly expensive sleeve of his suit jacket. "No," she sighed. "Bringing him back won't fix things ..."

"Oh, I don't know," Shane Rockwell said, eyeing her coolly. "Finding whoever got my brother killed might make me feel better."

* * *

"You were right to bring me here," Eden said softly, as soon as she got close enough to get a look at the War Boys biker's inflamed wounds. "He's in a pretty bad way. You're going to have to untie him and get him on a bed or a couch, a table even …"

Chibs shook his head at that. "Wi' you anywhere near him? No chance."

"Filip, I have to be able to reach him," she said, a note of impatience creeping in now she was in work mode with a patient in front of her. "He's in no fit state to try anything."

Even the Samcro president could see the truth in that, even if he didn't like it. "Fine," he growled, with a jerk of his head. "Hap, Rat, get him down. Leave his hands tied."

His men complied, eventually laying their captive out on the heavy wooden table, his head lolling weakly to one side, only for his pained eyes to widen just a little when they landed on Eden.

"You …" Archie managed.

"Me," she agreed. "I'm here to treat you."

"Aye, and I wouldn't make any sudden moves if I was you, pal," Chibs growled from just over her shoulder. "If I think - even for a second - you're a threat to her, the only thing you'll be needing's a body bag."

"I won't … I wouldn't …" the War Boys VP mumbled, trying to address first Chibs and then Eden directly, grimacing as her gloved fingers started to examine the extent of his injuries. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he tried to bear it without complaint, but couldn't help the occasional grunt when it bordered on unbearable.

"Sorry," Eden said, conscious of how much she had to be hurting him. "I will give you something to ease the pain, but I need to know exactly what we're dealing with first."

She could practically feel Chibs bristle at hearing her apologise to one of the enemy, but she just continued to treat him like she would anyone else who needed her help, slowly, carefully, methodically.

"Okay," the paramedic sighed finally. "You've obviously got a lot of second-degree burns, which is why you're in so much pain and that's causing your body to go into shock. Some of the wounds are also infected, which doesn't help, so I'm going to see what I can do about making you more comfortable before I even try to clean you up – get some pain relief and fluids into you. Then we'll see about antibiotics. I promise I'm not going to hurt you any more than I have to. Okay?"

"W-Why are you doing this?" Archie asked.

"Because you need help," Eden said simply. "And maybe because if things were different and it was my old man in your position, I'd want someone to help him."

The look in the eyes staring back at her told her he thought that was pretty naïve, but she didn't care. She knew it would probably be wishful thinking, but it was the truth.

"Your old man told me about the baby," Archie blurted out, just as she turned away to dig through her well-stocked medical bag. "We weren't exactly bonding – he had his hand round my throat at the time. Look, I … I had no idea. Shit that went down, it was already fucking wrong. You being pregnant … If I'd known …"

"_I_ didn't even know," she said, her hand drifted subconsciously to her stomach, a fresh chill running down her spine at the memory of Mack's violence and aggression.

"I don't know how bad he hurt you, I just … I know it don't mean shit, but I'm sorry. I got a wife – the thought of her in that position … No wonder your man wanted Mack dead."

Thrown by the sudden image in her mind of the biker choking on his own blood, Eden pressed the back of her wrist to her mouth and willed herself not to throw up, before muttering her excuses and swiftly heading for the door, with a worried Chibs hot on her heels.

* * *

"I'm okay," Eden tried to pre-emptively reassure her old man, but pale as she was, it wasn't exactly her most convincing performance. "I just … needed some air."

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind and she gave in to turning and burying her face in his chest, not wanting to admit that she just couldn't get what had happened with Mack out of her head for more than a brief reprieve.

"I got ya, my love," Chibs murmured into her hair, seeming to know anyway what was on her mind. "I got ya. Anything I can do to make it better?"

"This helps," Eden managed, her arms around his waist as she felt his comforting hold tighten to keep her cradled close. "Sorry, I know I need to … put it behind me …"

"Hey, you don't ever have to apologise," he said firmly, drawing back just enough to look at her and press a kiss to her lips. "I'm so damn proud o' you, my strong, beautiful girl."

"I don't feel particularly strong or beautiful right now," she smiled wryly at that.

"You kidding me? You've been through a hell o' a lot, Eden, and you're still here. Still standing. You saved my life, now you're gonna bring this new wee life into the world … You couldn't be any more fucking incredible. I love you, darlin', more than I got the words to tell you."

Seeing the easy tears that filled her eyes at that, Chibs chuckled softly and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "Now, that's enough o' that – or you'll set me off too, lass, and I've a reputation to uphold. Can't have everyone thinking the Samcro president's a bloody soft touch, ya know."

"Heaven forbid," Eden laughed, wiping her eyes and leaning in to kiss his cheek. "My big, bad biker. I love you."

"Boss?"

Turning at the gruff interruption, Chibs raised an eyebrow as his sergeant held out a burner phone to him.

"Bug," Happy said simply. "Says he's got an address for you."

"Already?" Chibs said, with a quick glance towards Eden. "That lad's wasted on us. Coulda been a fucking fed. I gotta take this for a second, darlin'. You good to go back in? Hap'll stay close, won't ya, bud?"

The shaven-headed, stern-faced biker nodded silently, waiting patiently while his boss stole another kiss from his girl and then letting her fall in step beside him as they headed for the door of the cabin.

"Baby's big as a lemon now," Happy informed her, apropos of nothing she could discern. "Got vocal chords."

"Uh, okay …"

"Told this asshole I'd cut his out if he upsets you."

"Oh. Wow," Eden managed, wide-eyed at the tall, imposing biker's matter-of-fact tone. "Uh, thanks, I guess?"

"You're welcome."


	50. Chapter 50

**Fifty**

"Kerri, I'm so glad you're here, darlin'," Chibs beamed from the doorway, before jogging over to sweep his daughter into a warm hug. "Look at you – I can't believe my wee lassie's so grown up."

It was true. Even the last time he had seen her in person, he'd been struck by the realisation that his daughter was no longer really a child and that was longer ago than he liked to think. Now, stood in front of him in ripped black jeans and a tank top, with most of her mother's features and only something around the eyes that spoke of him, that usually unruly dark hair more or less tamed in a long braid and the tiniest of diamond studs glittering in her nose, she seemed alarmingly on the verge of turning into a grown woman right in front of him.

"Hi, dad," she mumbled, returning his hug awkwardly.

She could still be a little shy around him at times, something that made his heart ache, knowing it came from that unfamiliarity that should never exist between a parent and a child. He'd been prepared for that though, determined to use the few days she'd be staying to build a better bond between them. Shyness wasn't exactly in his nature, so he'd figured it shouldn't be too hard to draw the teenager out of herself, just as she'd grown a little more comfortable around him and his brothers last time he'd been in Belfast.

He felt a fresh pang at that though, knowing that she had naturally gravitated towards the younger Sons. In much the same way as she looked up to Mo Ashby's girl Trinity, she'd been more than a little in awe of the likes of Jax and Juice and had seemed to love what little opportunity had presented itself to just hang out and play cards. So much had changed since then, so many of the faces she would have recognised now gone.

The biker ducked his head for a second, forcing himself to focus on the present, rather than let old ghosts rear their head again for too long. Besides, he was already starting to have an inkling that this visit might not all be plain sailing – before even accounting for having to somehow break the baby news.

Fiona had rightly counselled that she would have to at least tell their daughter about Eden's existence, rather than have her make that discovery when she turned up on the doorstep. Still, even if it had disgruntled her, he'd hoped Kerrianne would at least be a little excited at the prospect of staying with him. She'd been the one pushing for it after all. He hadn't factored in the current sulky gaze though, something that seemed more defiant than unsure, and he tried to keep the little frown that was brewing off his face.

"Want a hand wi' yer stuff?" Chibs tried, sticking his hands awkwardly in the back pockets of his jeans. "Got the spare room all ready for ya ..."

"Whatever," came the non-committal shrug, making him exchange a look with Fiona over the girl's head, but his estranged wife simply hauled a rucksack out of the trunk of her rental car and dumped it at his feet as she raised her eyebrows knowingly.

_Good luck_ seemed to be the unspoken message.

"Now, you be good for your da, you hear me?" she told Kerrianne, gripping her by the shoulders before pulling her into a hug, kissing her cheeks. "Sure, you know I'm only going to visit my cousin Kathleen in San Francisco. I'll be back to pick you up in a few days."

"Don't see why you can't stay too," Kerrianne muttered, letting go of her mother and shouldering her bag, despite her father trying to reach for it for it.

"We both know that wouldn't be the best idea," Fiona said, with a wry smile. "Hey, it'll be good for you to spend some quality time wi' your dad."

Her daughter rolled her eyes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _and her_.

"Take care o' our girl, Filip," Fiona told him, kissing his cheek too, before climbing back into the car. "Call me. Let me know how yous are getting on."

And just like that, she was gone, leaving father and daughter staring after her.

"Right then," Chibs said, taking a deep breath and trying to sound cheerful as his thoughts shifted back to the anxious woman he'd left waiting inside. Eden must have changed five or six times that morning, the mile-a-minute accompanying commentary telling him the pretty little floral dress was _trying too hard_, the simple jeans and t-shirt _not trying hard enough_, and other such insights he was apparently too much of a man to understand, but should expect his daughter to be fully across. "Shall we?"

Kerrianne reluctantly pulled her gaze away from watching her mother's car disappear into the distance and followed her dad towards the house.

* * *

"Look who's here, darlin'!" Chibs called, ushering Kerrianne through to the kitchen where Eden was hovering and trying to look casual, but welcoming. She'd changed back into the first dress after all, but topped it with a cropped denim jacket and pulled on tan ankle boots. Chibs didn't understand the fuss, but thought she looked cute as hell anyway. "Eden, this is my daughter Kerrianne – Kerri, this is my … Eden."

Both of them shot him a glance, Eden sympathetic to his predicament of how best to introduce her and Kerrianne looking uncomfortable at having to give any kind of consideration to the particulars of her father's love life. Then they looked at each other, Eden with a bright smile that only looked a little forced and Kerrianne with one that was definitely forced and that stopped just short of disdain.

"Hi! It's so lovely to meet you," Eden ploughed ahead gamely, rounding the counter only to realise she hadn't thought through whether to shake hands or go for a hug, the dilemma playing out across her face for a second before she settled for a little hug that was really just squeezing the younger girl's stiff shoulders. "Oh, here, let your dad take that bag upstairs – or maybe you want to go up and see your room? Get settled in, freshen up, or … Tea! Would you like some tea? It'll be just like you have at home. Your dad won't drink anything else …"

"Tell you what, why don't I show ya upstairs and then we'll all have a nice wee cuppa and you can catch us up on how Belfast's been?" Chibs said, taking charge and pointing Kerrianne in the direction of the stairs as he shouldered her bag. "Up to the landing and you're down to the far left. I'll be right behind you."

Sensing she was being dismissed from the adults' company, the teenager barely stifled a sigh and headed for the stairs, only just disappearing out of sight when Eden groaned and sank her head into her hands.

"Could I sound any more desperate? I might as well have shrieked 'Please like me!' in the poor girl's face," she lamented, making Chibs chuckle.

"Cut yersel' some slack, pet. We knew she'd be a wee bit uncomfortable wi' us at first. Gi' her time to settle in, get to know you. Get to know me, for that matter. We've been in touch a wee bit more since the last time I was in Belfast, but phone calls and emails ain't the same as being around."

"You're still her dad, that connection's still always going to be there," Eden said, pushing aside her own apprehensions to reassure her old man. He might have been doing a better job of hiding it, but she knew he was nervous about the visit too and desperately wanted it to go well. So she'd do anything she could to help. "It'll all be fine, I'm sure of it."

"Tell yer face then," he teased. "Don't look so worried, darlin'. At the end o' the day, she's a teenage girl – what's the worst that could happen?"

"Seriously? As someone who _was_ a teenage girl, do you really want me to answer that?"

"Not when you put it like that," he frowned, before dropping a little kiss on her head and trying to shrug off any misgivings again. "Right, you make tea and I'll go take Kerri her stuff. Jesus, what's the lass got in this thing? Bloody great big rocks?"

"What's the plan for later then?"

"Uh, I thought we could spin by the clubhouse, show Kerri around, introduce her to whoever's about. And then … Um, I kinda have a wee bit o' business I can't really trust anyone else wi' …"

Eden's eyes widened. "What? You're leaving her with me? Filip! She'll hate that."

"No, she won't," he scoffed. "Be grand. Thought ya could take her into town, bit o' girl time. Get milkshakes, or … fuck, I dunno, get yer hair done or something …"

"Are you saying I _need_ to get my hair done?"

"No, 'cause you're always fucking stunning and I'm not a total idiot," he shot back. "Just thought my girls might like a wee bit o' pampering – whatever ya like, my treat. And then, if yous are good, I'll take ya both for dinner somewhere nice tonight. That okay? I'm bloody trying here, darlin' …"

Cutting him some slack, Eden smiled as she reached to caress his cheek tenderly and then pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth. "I know," she told him softly, thinking of how he had fussed over making the spare room comfortable for their guest. "You're a lovely daddy. And I can't wait to see you with our little one."

The rucksack dropped to the floor again at that as Chibs pulled her into his arms for a proper kiss.

* * *

After the bustle of Belfast – a city that, despite its troubled past and sometimes still violent undercurrent, managed to be vibrant and with a thriving social scene – Charming, with its lack of chain stores or big name brands, proved positively quaint. But, while Kerrianne might have secretly quite liked the change of pace and enjoyed the novelty of being somewhere new, she certainly wasn't prepared to admit it.

And so, she'd greeted the tiny beauty salon Eden had finally shown her when she'd appeared to have exhausted the rest of the town's sights with a roll of her eyes even she knew was ungrateful.

"It's not the fanciest place in the world," the older woman – who still seemed ridiculously young to Kerrianne, in the context of her relationship with her father - said, almost apologetically. "But it's kinda cute and Marie, the owner, she's a sweetheart. I thought we could get, like, mani-pedis or something maybe? Or a facial? Whatever you like – your dad's paying …"

But Eden's playful smile faltered even as the words came out of her mouth and she frowned at how it sounded. "This isn't what I do, you know. Swanning around town, spending your dad's money. He just felt bad he couldn't spend the whole day with you, so he wanted to treat you. We don't have to do this – we can go somewhere else, do whatever you want. He just thought you might like it."

Even though her spirits lifted a little at hearing how her dad had tried to think of something nice for her, Kerrianne continued to study the little menu-style flyer in the window with a detached expression.

"This is fine," she shrugged, pushing open the door and setting the hanging windchimes jingling lightly.

Eden, blowing out a breath behind her back, followed her inside, beyond grateful for a reprieve from trying to keep up a flow of awkward small talk and making a mental note to let her old man know he seriously owed her. And it'd take more than a mani-pedi to settle that bill.

* * *

"You need back-up for this little mystery mission of yours?" Tig asked, ready to throw off his work shirt and head for his bike until the Samcro president shook his head.

"Nah, this is all me, my brother," Chibs said. "Personal shit. Kind of. I ain't keeping ya in the dark, Tiggy – I just gotta get going, so I can get back before Eden wants my guts. Left her wi' Kerri in town."

"Tough gig," Tig acknowledged, a flicker of something crossing his face at the memory of his own twin girls, but he quickly shrugged it off to focus on his present concern. "Still, you don't ride alone. Especially when we've got our guest still stewing at the cabin. War Boys or the pricks who dumped him on us in the first place, who knows when they might decide to check in."

"This ain't the sort o' trip I want to be bringing an entourage on … All right, all right, calm that curly head o' yours," Chibs relented, already throwing a leg over his bike. "I'll take Charlie. He ain't exactly gonna intimidate anyone. I was gonna send him to referee the girls, but I didn't fancy the lad's chances o' survival. Seemed cruel, even for a prospect."

"You're too soft on the boy," Tig grinned. "I'll get him."

Raking a hand through his hair and putting on his helmet, Chibs paused before buckling it to check in the inside pocket of his cut for the information he needed. For a second, he thought he'd left it somewhere, but then his fingers closed on the scrap of paper where he'd scrawled the details Bug had turned up for him.

The home address and place of work for one Aubrey Moore.

He could only hope he wasn't about to make things worse.


	51. Chapter 51

**Fifty-One**

Watching from across the street as a bored-looking little blond boy repeatedly kicked a soccer ball up against the wall of the run-down apartment block, Chibs found he was glad of his shades to hide the emotion in his dark eyes. Hot tears pricked at his eyelids, but he forced them back, silently cursing his softness.

Kids were something of a weakness right now though, all things considered.

He could have been looking at one of the Teller boys, Abel or Tommy, or even Jax himself in his young days. That was painful in itself. A fresh reminder of the loss of his beloved president, not only to the club, but to his family. That those wee lads would grow up without a father, or indeed a mother or grandparents – not disrespecting how Wendy and Nero had stepped up – would forever break his heart.

And pissed as he might be with Seth for how he had hurt Eden with his harsh reaction to her pregnancy, even though some of his barbs had hit home, he knew what it was to be kept from your own child. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. Not when having to face never being a part of Kerrianne's life had nearly destroyed him.

Throwing himself into Samcro had been the only thing to save him in those early dark days when all his losses were still as fresh as the scars on his face. But finding out so many years later that he had actually lost another child when his precious Aoife was so callously murdered had set him right back. Then for so many of the brothers, the family, who had rallied round him to also be cut down and ripped away from him one by one …

"So, uh, are we waiting for someone?"

At Charlie's voice, Chibs subtly slipped his fingers under his shades to wipe at his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose as he sat astride his bike and hunched over the handlebars next to the young prospect who had been both intrigued and thrilled at being trusted with whatever secret mission his president was on.

"Aye, you could say that," the Scotsman murmured, finally clocking a woman calling out to the young boy as she approached.

"Theo! Theo, time to come inside!"

Distracted just as he kicked the ball particularly hard up against the brickwork, the kid missed it rebounding past him as he looked towards the woman who had to be his mother, only to realise too late and dash after it without thinking – straight into the road.

"Shite!"

Chibs was off his bike in a second, leaving Charlie with no time to even react, save for gawping in alarm as one of the many old muscle cars cruising the block seemed to have no chance of stopping in time. But, amid screeching tyres and the blaring of a horn, the little boy found himself firmly scooped up as his rescuer dived for safety, twisting to take impact of the pavement himself and spare the child some nasty grazes.

"Oh my god, oh my god, _Theo!_"

The woman was on the verge of hysterics by the time she reached them, her auburn hair falling from her previously neat ponytail and her face deathly pale, save for the flushed spots on her cheeks.

"Theo, how many times do I have to tell you about that road? Oh my god, are you okay, sir? Should I call an ambulance? I … I don't have my phone – I can go-"

"Easy, darlin', no real harm done," Chibs soothed, even as he passed the frightened, but otherwise unharmed little boy into his mother's frantic arms and stood up to dust himself down, inspecting the scuffs to one arm of the leather jacket he wore under his cut and feeling thankful for its protection.

"You saved my son's life," the woman gasped.

"Ain't a big deal. Could hardly let the wee lad get flattened, now could I?" he smiled, reaching out to ruffle the boy's hair. There was no question that he looked like Seth, but the family resemblance to Eden was there too and it made Chibs wonder what their own child would look like. "I'm already in his da's bad books."

* * *

Chibs eyed the startled woman, watching her demeanour change from panicked and grateful to shocked and wary, a little more fear creeping in when she took in his cut properly for the first time and, glancing around, clearly spotted Charlie and the bikes.

"Aubrey, ain't it?" he said, prompting her hold on her son to tighten protectively. "Aubrey Moore?"

"Who are you? How do you know who I am? Why are you here?" she asked, her voice sharp with nerves.

"I ain't here to hurt you. Or your boy," Chibs said, his hands out in a placating gesture. "Listen, can we just talk for a minute? Maybe inside?"

"Oh sure, I let strange men who're clearly in some kind of gang into my home all the time …"

He couldn't exactly fault her for her response, but he was growing impatient nonetheless. He didn't like that he was clearly freaking the woman out more than he'd intended, fearing that he was perhaps in danger of making the whole already messy situation worse. If that was the case, Seth really might just kill him.

"Look, Aubrey-"

"How did you know I live here? Oh my god, were you _watching_ me?"

"No – well, only for a minute, but only because-"

"I'm calling the cops!"

"Thought you said you didn't have your phone on ya?" Chibs pointed out, wiping a hand over his face as he now noted the ache in his side. His heroics, no longer so appreciated, probably hadn't done his not-so-old stab wound any favours. "Will you just listen a minute? I ain't gonna hurt you or the kid, I swear. Look, he's fine, let him go back to playing ball – off ya go, son, and watch yersel'. No more running into the road, yeah?"

Looking a little unsure, the boy glanced at his mother and, at her reluctant little nod, trotted off obediently.

"Whatever you want with me, don't hurt my son. Please."

Regretting the genuine fear in her trembling voice, Chibs sighed. "I don't threaten innocent women. I don't set out to intimidate them either, although I can understand why you might argue wi' that. I'd have taken off the cut for this, but maybe I needed to make the point. And I'm gonna get to it sharp because, believe it or not, I didn't come here wi' the intention o' terrorising you. Now, I'm sure you don't move in the right circles to have heard o' my club, but I'm equally sure you can guess the kind o' people we cross paths wi' sometimes. Violent people. Cruel. Sadistic even. Seth Moore ain't any o' those things. You, o' all people, should know that. You married him."

"_Seth_ sent you? Jesus …"

"No. No, he most definitely did not. And if he knew I was here, he'd probably have a good go at beating my arse for interfering. But if he's not gonna fight his corner, maybe somebody needs to."

"You don't know what happened-"

"I know plenty."

"The man who went on trial, the man who went to _prison_, wasn't the man I married," Aubrey insisted, her arms folded defensively across her chest.

"That's as may be, but can you really blame him for defending his family? He ain't some thug stirring trouble for shits and giggles."

"He put a man in a _coma!_"

"He defended his wee sister the only way he could and if I had any fucking say, he'd get a bloody medal, not a prison sentence," Chibs shot back. "He did it to protect her. Keeping him from that wee lad? Now _that's _cruel. On both o' them. Just do me a favour, yeah? Think it over."

"W-Why do you care? Who are you to Seth?" came the shaky question, as he was already walking away having realised he couldn't risk pushing any harder.

The biker stopped in his tracks, thinking about it for a second before heading on his way again.

"Brother-in-law," he called over his shoulder, making her eyes widen in shock.

* * *

The thrum of a Harley in the distance was like a chorus of heavenly hallelujahs to those waiting inside.

"That'll be your dad," Eden declared unnecessarily, abandoning the glass of sparkling water she'd been nursing while stood gazing distractedly out the window and hurrying for the door. "Thank god you're here," she hissed to her old man, as soon as he stepped inside. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Sorry, love, took a wee bit longer than expected," Chibs said, casually brushing off her question with a little peck on the lips. "You girls have a nice day? I didn't forget my promise – table's booked for dinner. Just let me jump in the shower …"

"Filip, I'm really trying, but I think me and Kerri ran out of things to say to each other at _least_ an hour ago."

"You worry too much, babe," he chuckled. "Eden, relax. I swear I'll be, like, five minutes. Less if you lasses have nicked all the hot water."

"It would serve you right for abandoning us," his old lady pouted. "Also, do you know how hard it was to find something to wear tonight that didn't make it glaringly obvious I'd either swallowed a melon or just might be, oh say, carrying your baby?"

Chibs grinned at that, half disappointed the floaty maxi dress she'd changed into was doing a good job of hiding the evidence. "You look gorgeous, my darlin'. And I promise, we'll tell Kerri soon and then there'll be no more secrets and I can just be proud as hell o' my wee family. I just didn't think it was fair to dump everything on her on her first day wi' us."

"I know," Eden sighed, letting him pull her into another little kiss, her hands running up and down his arms. "And you're right, of course. Hey, what happened to your sleeve? It's scuffed pretty bad. It wasn't always like that, was it? Did you spill?"

"Something and nothing," Chibs said, pressing his lips to her forehead on seeing the worry etched there. "No need to fret. I promise. Now, shower. I'll be five minutes – unless, o' course, ya wanna join me?"

But Eden slipped out of his hold. "Oh no, I already spent ages getting ready. And we're so not having sex in this house while your teenage daughter's in it," she said, heading back to wait in the lounge with Kerrianne and leaving her old man stopped in his tracks.

"Wait, what?"

* * *

Seeing Eden take a seat on the couch when they all returned from a dinner that had certainly been a little less awkward with Chibs there to keep up the conversation, Kerrianne deliberately folded herself into the armchair as far away as possible and pulled out her phone, only giving the television half her attention. She'd quite enjoyed her dad's reminiscing about the not-so-dark days in Belfast, feeling closer to him when they had something in common to talk about and admittedly liking that all the more so as something his new girlfriend couldn't share, petty though she knew that was.

"Any preferences, Kerri?" Eden tried lightly, following up on the earlier decision to forgo dessert in favour of snacks in front of a movie. "Comedy? Action? Chick flick, even though your dad'll hate it?"

Walking in just in time to catch his daughter's disinterested shrug, Chibs smothered a sigh and tossed her a bag of peanut M&Ms, getting a glare when they landed on her phone screen. But he simply forced a grin and settled himself by Eden's side, taking the remote control from her.

"If you lasses can't decide, I guess I'll have to step up," he declared smugly, patting his old lady's knee as he started flicking through options.

The look on Kerrianne's face only darkened as she snuck glances at the pair of them throughout the movie they'd finally agreed on, uncomfortable at witnessing the obvious intimacy between them as they whispered and laughed quietly together, play fighting over snacks, holding hands. At one point, she couldn't quite swallow down the tut of distaste when she saw Eden was hugging her father's arm as she rested her head on his shoulder, prompting him to press a little kiss into her hair, his hand curled around her thigh. Had he ever been so lovey-dovey with her mother? She couldn't imagine it somehow.

Not that she really wanted to – no one wants to think of their parents as an actual couple. But she'd rather have her family together like they should be than her dad fooling around with some girl half his age. The fact they were living together didn't even allow her the luxury, however implausible, of pretending it couldn't possibly be serious. She was half tempted to feign tiredness just so she could escape upstairs away from them, but then she'd just be leaving them alone together to get up to whatever they wanted.

"Oh, sorry," Eden laughed softly, having failed to fully stifle a wide yawn as the credits finally rolled. "God, I can hardly keep my eyes open - think I'm gonna have to call it a night. Don't let me stop you if you two want to watch something else though …"

But just as Kerrianne was about to suggest another movie, glad of the chance to get her dad to herself for a while, he shook his head and reached for the remote.

"It's late and we're probably all knackered," Chibs said, flicking off the television. "Why don't you head on up to bed, love, and I'll be there in a minute? Me and Kerri can clear up down here."

That drew a grateful smile from Eden and an almost-scowl from Kerrianne as she side-eyed them, only to quickly avert her gaze when her dad kissed his girlfriend before sending her on her way. She didn't care if it was immature – the mere mention of sleeping arrangements was enough to make her brain perform the mental equivalent of la-la-las with fingers in the ears. Ugh, seriously, couldn't they go, like, five minutes without touching each other?

Once Eden was gone, she was taken aback to see her dad's smile vanish though and he looked at her sternly.

"What?"

"Don't gi' me that. You think I can't see all the dirty looks and the eye rolling? Oh, don't try denying it now. I'll have far more respect for you if you're straight wi' me. Are you really that unhappy being here?"

"No," Kerrianne said, outwardly sulky, but inwardly panicking that she'd gone too far and simply earned herself a swift trip to join her mother in San Francisco after all. And she didn't want that, despite her reluctance to actually enjoy herself.

"Then what's the matter? Because - and let me be very clear on this, darlin' – this is Eden's home and I ain't gonna have her made to feel uncomfortable-"

"Oh, it's her home, but not mine? Got it loud and clear, dad!"

"Jesus, Kerri, that ain't what I meant and you know it," Chibs sighed in exasperation. "I know I ain't been there for you like I shoulda been and I wish I could change that, but I can't. It's not Eden's fault though. It's not her fault I wasn't there, it's not her fault things didn't work between me and your mum. So can you please, for me, go just a wee bit easier on her? 'Cause I'd love for you to feel at home here too, visit us more often …"

"Is it so wrong that I want to spend time wi' my dad and not his latest tart?" she demanded, doubling down stubbornly on her position of hostility.

"You're bang out o' order there, kid," her father warned tightly. "Don't be speaking about her like that when that girl's bent over backwards to welcome you …"

"Funny, I thought _you_ were the one she bent over for."

Silence.

She knew she'd gone too far the moment the vulgar, ill-thought out words left her mouth, but it was too late to take them back, so all she could do was stare down the furious man in front of her, watching his hands curl into fists and wondering if he would actually hit her. Even she had to admit, if only to herself, that she'd probably have deserved it if he did finally snap. Jimmy would have back-handed her into the middle of next week for that kind of disrespect.

"Go to your room."

"Oh, for god's sake, I'm not a bloody child-"

"THEN STOP FUCKING ACTING LIKE ONE!" Chibs all but roared. "Go on, get out o' my sight."

Furious with herself for screwing everything up so badly, Kerrianne fled.

* * *

By the time Chibs had cooled down enough to head upstairs to bed himself, just pausing to note that Kerrianne's door was shut and there was no sliver of light below it, he was surprised to find Eden still up until he realised she had probably heard the shouting. Sure enough, she was sat anxiously on the edge of the bed, twisting the hem of her pyjama shorts until she looked up at the sound of him approaching, her eyes filling with tears as soon as she saw him.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's this?" he soothed, hurrying over and letting her arms wrap around his neck.

"I don't want to come between you," she managed. "I know how much it means to you to have Kerri back in your life – I don't want to get in the way of that …"

"Ah, sweetheart, don't you be getting upset," Chibs sighed, scooping her onto his lap as he sank down on the bed. "It ain't personal, you know. Kerri'd be like this no matter who I was wi'. And she will come round. She's had a strange childhood, god love her. Having to grow up too fast, knowing how to stay safe in the middle o' all the shite going on around her. But after spending so much time cooped up wi' Fi and Jimmy … In some ways, it's kept her younger than her years. She ain't as grown up as she'd like to think. How much did you hear?"

"Just shouting. I couldn't make it out though. You sounded so angry," Eden sighed, letting her fingers trail lightly through his hair.

"Aye … Wee brat's got a right mouth on her when she wants. Wonder who she gets that from?" he said wryly, knowing he'd done plenty of shouting the odds and pushing his luck over the years.

"Can I do anything? Would it help if I try talking to her again? I don't want to make things worse, but-"

"Leave Kerri to me and just you worry about a wee cuddle for your aul' man," he smiled, motioning for her to scoot over so he could get up and strip down to his boxers, quickly joining her under the covers with a weary sigh that was half regret at how difficult things were proving with his fractured family and half relief at sinking into the sanctuary of their big, comfortable bed.

"My poor baby," Eden whispered, full of sympathy as she let him wrap her in his arms, one hand settling over the swell of her stomach she'd spent all day trying to disguise. "I love you."

"Love you too, darlin'. Get some rest. I reckon we're gonna need it."


	52. Chapter 52

**Author's Note: I'd planned to fit a lot more into this part, but it just seemed to work better as a stand-alone piece without any appearances from the wider cast. Sorry/not sorry. :)**

* * *

**Fifty-Two**

"Mmm, morning, handsome," Eden murmured, when she'd stirred and woken up enough to realise her old man was propped up on an elbow watching her.

"Morning, love," Chibs smiled, reaching out to let his fingers smooth a stray lock of bed-tousled hair back from her face. "D'ya know, every time I wake up and find you here wi' me, I think, fuck, I'm a lucky aul' bastard."

Letting his hand cup her cheek, Eden leaned kitten-like into his touch, still cloudy with sleep, and kissed his thumb softly as the digit traced a gentle path over her bottom lip.

The biker's dark eyes roved over her, narrowing in concern. "You still tired, lass?"

"That your way of telling me I look tired?" she teased, even as she stifled a yawn. "I didn't sleep too well actually. No big deal, just tossing and turning a bit."

"Shoulda woke me," Chibs scolded, a little annoyed with himself for having been dead to the world instead of realising his girl was still awake beside him.

"No point in us both not sleeping."

"Oh, I dunno, darlin'. Coulda maybe found a way to … pass the time."

His old lady chuckled at that, knowing all too well what he had in mind, despite her reluctance to incur Kerrianne's wrath or make the teenager feel even more awkward by risking having her overhear them being intimate. Already missing that closeness though, she let her arms slip around his neck as he leaned over her, enjoying the feel of his lips trailing lazily down her throat, his beard always surprisingly soft against her skin. But there was a tentative look creeping into her green eyes and she chewed lightly on her lip while she considered him.

"What's going on in that wee head o' yours?" Chibs asked, sensing something was on her mind and dipping his head to drop a kiss on her shoulder.

"I was … thinking."

"Oh, aye?" came the wary prompt, when nothing further followed by way of explanation or elaboration. "And?"

"And I was thinking I should go see my mom. Like, to stay. For a while."

Chibs stayed quiet, a mix of emotions flitting across his scarred face. Understanding, but also regret and disappointment, and something that could have crept closer to fear if he let it take hold. It wasn't that he doubted his old lady's love and loyalty, but history had done nothing but show him just how much could be taken away from him and how quickly.

"Filip …"

"How long's _a while?_" he asked, his voice low.

"I don't know," Eden said honestly. "I haven't really thought that far ahead."

With a sigh, Chibs shifted away from her and sat up in the bed, his knees drawn up and his shoulders hunched as he raked his hands through his hair.

"Filip," Eden tried, also sitting up and laying a gentle hand on his back. "You do know I have no intention of staying away?"

"Aye, I know. Or at least, I hoped not," he sighed. "I just … Darlin', you should see your ma, o' course you should. It'd be good for you, all things considered. I just don't want you leaving if … if you're feeling pushed out. If it's because o' Kerri. I love her, she's my wee girl and I'll never choose anyone over her. But there ain't a choice to be made here. She's gonna have to understand that you're my family too, you and our wee one."

His old lady laid her head on his shoulder. "I would feel bad leaving you to deal with Kerrianne alone. I don't want you to think I'm just abandoning you. But … I think you two need some time and me being here only complicates it. I can be there to tell her about the baby, if you want me to be. But then, I think I should go and give you two some time together – just for a few days, a week maybe. I dunno. I'll have to see if mom'll have me first!"

Chibs heaved another sigh, but then tugged her gently into his arms, letting her settle with her back against his chest as he sank back against the pillows. "You need a wee break," he said, kissing her temple. "I hate the thought o' not having you wi' me, but I just want you safe and happy. All this stress wi' one thing after another, it ain't good for you or the baby."

"It's been a lot, but the baby's fine, I'm fine," Eden tried to reassure him, relaxing into his embrace. "Hey, I've got my old man taking care of me, don't I?"

"Always, my darlin'," he said huskily, nuzzling kisses into her neck, even as his hand slid over the curve of her belly, lingering there for a moment, before slowly heading south and slipping under the waistband of her cotton pyjama shorts.

"Filip …" she tried, but his name faded into a whimper as his skilled fingers caressed her sensitive folds.

"Shh now, pet," Chibs chuckled softly, holding her close, his breath warm on her ear. "Just stay nice and quiet for me, there's a good girl. Let me take care o' you."

* * *

Eden's hand curled around his wrist, but she didn't seem to know whether to push him away or hold him in place, taking a shaky breath and letting her head fall back against his shoulder. Her eyes drifted closed and she licked her lips helplessly, trying not to totally let her guard down.

But for this, her old man was prepared to be patient, keeping up his slow ministrations and a murmured stream of husky verbal caresses that were almost as effective as his touch in leaving her panting softly as she lay cradled against him. "Relax, love," he whispered, his lips just grazing her ear again. "No one's gonna hear. It's just you and … me …"

She bit back a moan at the curling of his fingers inside her, her grip on his wrist tightening and a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth at her response. "Shh, shh, shh," Chibs soothed, even as his thumb passed in another slow circle over her clit. "That's it, good girl … So fucking wet for me …"

His free hand reached to smooth stray locks of tousled hair back from her face, letting him keep pressing soft open-mouthed kisses to her temple, her cheek, her neck, anywhere he could reach flushed bare skin.

"Filip …" Eden managed, just his name sounding like a plea when it fell from her lips. "Oh god, please … I … I can't …"

"Aye, ya can, love," he coaxed, his touch gentle but relentless, sensing from the tension in her practically quivering frame that she had to be getting close. "Gonna let that sweet wee pussy come for yer aul' man, aren't ya?"

The barely stifled moan went a long way towards giving him his answer and the biker let his free hand cup the fullness of her breast, burying his face against her neck to try to ignore his own growing need. With his pregnant old lady breathless in his arms and on the verge of coming all over his fingers, he thought that was frankly a helluva lot of restraint on his part – although whether he could hold his nerve when all he wanted was to be buried inside her was another matter.

"_Fuck_," she gasped, her thighs clenching as she grabbed his wrist again and clamped her other hand over her mouth, making him grin as he held her close.

"That's it, darlin'," Chibs murmured, rewarded with a flood of heat on his fingers while they kept up their quick shallow strokes. His thumb rubbing swiftly over that little bundle of nerves seemed to send shockwaves up and down her spine, making her practically cry with relief at the release. "Ah, lass, yer okay, I got ya. I got ya … See, you can be quiet when you want to be."

Eden pinched him lightly at that, a little mock glare on her face before she - once she'd recovered enough to catch her breath - shifted to straddle his hips so she could give him a long, slow kiss, her hands cupping his face and his softly kneading the firm flesh of her ass.

"Lift up, love," the biker urged suddenly, already lifting her just enough to tug down her shorts and panties, silencing any attempt at protest with a searing kiss even as he turned his attention to ridding himself of his boxers. "Can't expect me not to want to make the most o' my girl when she tells me she's taking off on me."

Even though it made her relent, Eden shook her head and kissed him again, putting everything she felt for him into it and making him groan into her mouth as she sank slowly onto his aching cock.

"Jesus, Eden …"

"I'm never taking off on you," she murmured, her eyes locked on his and her hands gripping his shoulders. "I'm yours. Just yours. I'll _always_ be yours."

Chibs leaned up to kiss her hard, his hands caressing her thighs, her stomach, her breasts, before his arms slid around her back to hold her close as his hips rocked slowly upwards.

"Mine," he agreed roughly, his forehead pressed against hers. "_Mine._"

* * *

He'd thought about what to do, what to say, how long to wait. And the more he thought about it, the more nothing seemed right. Until they were laid in each other's arms in the comfort of the bed that now suddenly felt much too big without both of them in it, in the home that was now theirs instead of just his.

In that moment, he didn't give a shit about doing things right, or what anyone else thought. The how wasn't half as important as the why and he didn't want to wait a second longer to at least get them a step closer to where he wanted them to be.

"Eden?" Chibs tried softly, wanting to be sure she at least hadn't drifted off on him. "You awake, love?"

"Mmm-hmm."

He couldn't help smiling at how just that little hum of a reply sounded so content and he did his best not to disturb her too much as he shifted to reach for the drawer of the nightstand.

"Time is it?" she murmured. "Do we need to get up?"

"Aye, in a wee bit," the biker nodded, settling back against the pillows and letting her cuddle close again. "Thought I could take Kerri out for breakfast, give you a morning's peace."

"Mmm, I was thinking maybe I should try to go and see Seth," Eden admitted, her head pillowed on his chest.

"Yeah? I think that's a good idea," Chibs said, pleased at the thought of the siblings finally putting their differences aside. "Hey, maybe we could all meet for lunch back here later – kind o' a family thing? Then we could tell Kerri about the baby and soften the blow wi' tonight's party at the clubhouse in her honour. Lyla's got it all in hand apparently."

"What could possibly go wrong?" Eden laughed lightly, sounding like she was only half joking.

"There's, uh, something else …"

"Mmm-hmm?"

Maybe he should have waited, taken her somewhere fancy. Or somewhere out on his bike, just the two of them. Except that wouldn't work because he wasn't letting his old lady anywhere near his bike while she was pregnant. They could have taken her car though … Maybe he should wait. Or at least get down on one knee. That was what you were supposed to do, although he didn't think whoever came up with that rule meant for it to be in boxers after stumbling out of bed somehow …

"Eden …"

"Filip …" she echoed, clearly wondering what was going on with him as she shifted out of his arms and sat up.

Would she be pissed he hadn't given her the chance to get dressed up? That he'd sprung this on her when she was wrapped in the tangles of their sheets, with bed-tousled hair and no make-up. He didn't particularly see how it mattered when he thought she looked like a fucking goddess just the way she was, but he figured she might have a different view on that.

"Are you okay?" she asked in concern. "You've gone really quiet and-"

"Marry me."

* * *

Fuck. Too late to reconsider now. And that wasn't exactly bloody poetry, was it? No wonder she was staring at him wide-eyed. Fuck.

"Marry me," Chibs repeated. "I know I said I had no right to ask you, but I love you, Eden, and I want the whole fucking world to know you're mine. And more than that, I want you to know how much you mean to me. You saved my life, darlin'. In more ways than one. I'm so proud to have you as my beautiful old lady, but I want to be able to call you my wife. It'll take a couple o' months yet to finalise, but Fi's agreed to the divorce …"

He trailed off, knowing it was far from ideal to have to bring up his ex at a time like this. But he wanted her to know he was serious, that this wasn't something glib he could say knowing legally he couldn't follow through. But now that Fiona had given her consent, it actually shouldn't be a difficult process – they'd been living thousands of miles apart for so many years, there could be no denying their estrangement.

Eden still hadn't moved or said anything though and he decided to cut his losses, holding out the small jewellery box he'd had stashed away for a couple of weeks now and opening it to let her see the solitaire diamond nestled in the velvet interior.

Fuck, she still wasn't saying anything. Had his sudden show of commitment scared her into second thoughts about the whole prospect of being stuck with the likes of him? Was it the ring? Did she hate it? It had seemed like fate when he'd spotted the – he'd thought – pretty ring with its simple, but more than reasonably sized stone and intricate Celtic style platinum band. He could only plough on though regardless, seeing no way back now and reaching out to take her hand.

"You already make me so fucking happy, lass," he said, hope and apprehension in his brown eyes as they roved over her, looking for any indication of what was going on in her head. "Let me spend the rest o' my life making you happy. Eden Catherine Moore, will you marry me?"

She pressed a hand to her mouth and dissolved into tears.

"Oh, Filip, yes – yes, of course I'll marry you!" she managed, throwing herself into his arms and drawing a grin from him that threatened to split his face in two as his own eyes burned with tears. "I love you so much!"

"Jesus, thank fuck for that! I love you too, my darlin'. And if you don't like the ring, I can-"

"Shut up and kiss me."

For once, he had no problem doing as he was told.


	53. Chapter 53

**Author's Note: Apologies for the longer than usual wait - I've had some real-life complications recently that have made it difficult to find time. But hopefully I'll be able to keep going at a reasonably regular pace because writing really is all about escapism for me. Thanks, as always, for reading. T x**

* * *

**Fifty-Three**

As the leader of the Sons, Chibs was well used to having to juggle his priorities.

He was spinning a lot of plates on a daily basis just to keep their heads above water, keeping his men in line and their businesses – legit and less-so – ticking over. But only his long-held and so often thwarted desire to spend time with his estranged daughter could have dragged him away from his new fiancée right then. With everything that had happened over the last couple of years, the last thing he had ever expected was to feel the kind of deep, genuine _happiness_ that came from being with Eden.

He had lost so much over the years, more than he could bear to fully take stock of. But now, he had something more than grim determination and loyalty to his club and the memory of those who had gone before him to keep him going. He had a beautiful woman he adored, an unexpected but already no less loved baby on the way, and the prospect of finally building bridges with his precious firstborn.

It was more than he could ever have dared hope for. More than he felt he deserved.

He'd had to order Eden to stay tucked up in their bed while he hit the shower. If she'd joined him, Kerrianne would have been lucky to get a lunch date, never mind breakfast. But, as it was, he'd quickly gotten ready while his girl curled up on his side of the bed, tilting her hand back and forth to watch the diamond on her finger sparkle.

"Ya said aye already, babe - no backsies," Chibs grinned, draping his rosary around his neck and leaning down to kiss Eden's lips tenderly. "I'm gonna go see if her ladyship's up yet. Be good. Go see that brother o' yours."

Eden nodded, but caught hold of his hand with a little smile, keeping him there so she could keep stealing one more kiss and then another, until she finally deigned to let him go.

"I love you," she said softly, slipping out of bed to get ready herself, only to be tugged into the biker's arms for yet another one last kiss. "Good luck with Kerri."

"Here's hoping she's had time to think shit through and I won't need it," he tried, sounding even less convinced than he felt, even to his own ears. "See ya later, darlin'."

Eden watched him go, feeling like she could just about burst with love for the rough-and-ready biker who had well and truly stolen her heart and sinking down on the edge of the bed to admire her ring again.

"Your daddy's got good taste, baby," she murmured, her hand settling on her stomach. "Yes, he does."

* * *

"It's no Ulster fry, but it does the job, right?" Chibs grinned, eyebrows raised and gesturing with his fork in the direction of the stack of pancakes, bacon and maple syrup in front of his daughter – something of a novelty for the Belfast born and bred girl, despite the growing number of posh cafes with hipster tendencies popping up in her city. Crushed avocado and sun-blushed tomato on fancy toast was probably more common than the perceived all-American style breakfast. And no less overrated, as far as the biker and his much more traditional tastes were concerned, although he was more than happy to treat his daughter.

"It's good," Kerrianne agreed, shooting him a small smile across the booth. She'd been quiet all morning, no doubt feeling like she was on the back foot after her outburst the night before. "Ma would have a fit."

"Still on her fucking muesli, or whatever that shite is? Like something out o' bloody hamster's cage," he chuckled, remembering Fiona always had been into looking after herself. Sometimes he wondered how two people who were so fundamentally different had ever seemed like a good match at all. "Nah, gimme a proper fry-up and a cuppa any day."

For a while, the pair ate in silence, but at least it leaned towards companionable rather than awkward. Chibs sat back first though, taking pleasure in simply watching his not-so-little girl right there in front of him.

"What?" she asked, just a little self-consciously, dabbing a napkin to her lip in expectation of having smeared syrup there or something.

"Nothing, darlin'," he chuckled, his mug of tea cupped in both hands. "Just can't get over you really being here. My wee girl all grown up. Means the world to me to get to spend time wi' you. You know that, right?"

Kerrianne glanced up at him briefly, her gaze returning to her plate with a little shrug. "Wasn't sure you'd want your old life getting in the way o' things here," she confessed, no animosity in her tone, just genuine uncertainty.

It was like a dagger in Chibs' heart and he set down the mug at once to reach for her.

"Sweetheart, you will _always_ be my wee girl. _Always._ You hear me?" he vowed roughly, his fingers squeezing hers. "Kerri, you're my baby, my _blood_. I'm so sorry I ain't been there for you like a da should, but ain't nothing ever gonna change the fact that you're mine. My precious daughter. Oh, love, don't cry …"

Clinging to his hands, her bottom lip trembling, Kerrianne blinked furiously to try to keep the tears from falling, unable to look her father in the eye. She could practically hear Jimmy's harsh voice in her head, telling her to grow up, to quit gurning like a wee cry-baby. In a perverse way, she'd have welcomed his approach right now. At least it would have dried up tears and, unlike her dad's gruff tenderness, allowed her to harden her heart.

"Why can't you just come back home wi' us?" she blurted out, without even really meaning to. "Why can't we just be a family again? You and mum could still make things work, if you just _try!_"

"Ah, pet, you have to put that out o' your head-"

"But _why?_ You have to still love each other – you're still married!"

Chibs took a deep breath, quickly dashing the back of a hand over his eyes before taking hold of both his daughter's hands again. "Listen to me, darlin', listen. The last thing I wanna do is cause you hurt, but you ain't a kid anymore and I need to be straight wi' you. Me and your mum, we ain't been together in a very long time, you know that. Too long. No, I know this ain't what you want to hear, but it's important. We have talked, me and your mum. And we know we'll always have some kind o' bond because o' you. We both love you so much, Kerri, and we ain't always got things right over the years, but all either o' us tried to do was whatever we could to keep you safe. But now … we've decided it's time for us to move on. You're old enough to understand that sometimes these things, they just don't work out, pet. It ain't anyone's fault, that's just how it goes."

One of Kerrianne's hands had slipped free of his and she picked up her fork again, not looking at him as she pushed an abandoned piece of pancake around on her plate, making trails in the smears of syrup left behind.

"You're getting divorced," she said flatly.

"Aye," Chibs said finally, ducking to try to draw her gaze back up to meet his. "Aye, we are. It don't change anything for you, pet. Your ma still loves the bloody bones o' you. She ain't thrilled wi' me – that'll be the aul' Catholic guilt kicking in. But, frankly, we ain't exactly been sin-free before now, so I doubt a divorce is gonna be the clincher for aul' St Peter at the pearly gates. And she gets it, she does. She knows it's time. And I still love you like I always have, my darlin'. I still want to be part o' your life. More so, if you'll let me. Now you're older and things are hopefully at least a wee bit safer, maybe we can do this kinda trip more often …"

The knuckles gripping the fork had tightened, the jaw set in a way that reminded him so much of Fiona.

"Is this because o' _her?_"

The biker sighed at the distain in his daughter's tone. "No. I told you, sweetheart, you can't blame Eden for any o' this. Even if she wasn't in my life, this would still be for the best."

"I'm not stupid – I've been around Sambel long enough to know what goes on. The girls that are always sniffing round. Slappers who only care about the patch."

"You really think your aul' da's that daft he don't know that?" Chibs tried. "But I promise you, pet, Eden ain't some croweater. If you just gave her a chance-"

"Why should I? Gi' it six months and she'll be gone and then what?"

Her father blew out a breath, bracing himself for an inevitable storm. "She won't be going anywhere, darlin'. She's gonna marry me."

* * *

Admittedly a little relieved to have a morning off from worrying about what a hostile teenager thought of her, Eden still felt uneasy at the prospect of walking through the doors of the Scrapyard uninvited. And it pained her to feel that way, when she and her brother had always been so close.

But she took a deep breath and forced herself not to back out now, despite the fluttering in her stomach.

"Oh, uh, Eden … Hi. Can I help you with something?"

For an uncomfortably long moment, Eden could only stare back at the clearly flustered receptionist in her tight lycra leggings and cropped tank top, thrown by the spark of resentment she still felt towards the blonde. Not to mention the envy over her toned midriff. She'd tried so hard to rationalise the other woman's dalliance with the Samcro president as just a meaningless hook-up, and one when he hadn't even been hers to get possessive over, but the thought of them in bed together made her stomach churn all the more.

"I don't think so, thank you," she finally said, her voice sounding clipped and tight even to her own ears. "I'm here to see my brother."

"Of course. Do you, uh, want me to get him for you? I think he's just-"

But Eden, having spotted Seth working up a sweat at one of the heavy bags in the corner, had already walked away without another word, leaving Lisa crestfallen.

"You're holding back with that left arm," she said quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the dull smack of gloved fists on canvas, as she tried to shift her focus back to why she was there. "It giving you trouble again?"

Seth threw one more hard right, then a left as if trying to prove her wrong, but it was obvious it didn't hold quite the same power and he grabbed hold of the bag to steady it on the chains suspending it from the ceiling. "May have overdone it a little," he admitted, leaning his sweaty forehead against the bag as he tried to get his breath back.

"Not as young as you used to be."

"Fuck you, kid," came the retort, but even she could hear the smile in his voice and her heart lifted just a little.

"You gonna let me take a look?"

"You gonna give me any choice?"

"Can't force you to be around me …" Eden said lightly, but she couldn't help the tearful little waver in her voice and it went straight to Seth's gut.

"Eden …" he sighed, not seeming to know where to start – and abruptly pushing away from the bag he'd been half leaning on to simply wrap her up in his arms. "I'm a fucking asshole. I'm so sorry," he said gruffly, his words half muffled in her hair. "I know that probably don't mean shit, but—"

"I missed you," Eden managed, tightening her hold on him. "Turns out I need my big brother. Even when he's being an asshole."

"I deserve that," Seth laughed, drawing back just enough to plant a kiss on her cheek. "And more. Fuck, Eden, could I have picked a shittier time to be a dick to you? Whatever else is going on, you got my niece or nephew in there!"

"And I'm just hoping he or she leaves following in their uncle's footsteps until after I'm done baking them," she said wryly, glancing down at her stomach. "Not sure I need a little boxer throwing fists and keeping me awake all night. Come on, let's talk and I can take a look at that arm while I'm here."

* * *

"So, just remember Kerri doesn't know about the baby yet …" Eden warned, thrilled to have gotten back on speaking terms with her brother and having persuaded him to join them for lunch. Now though, she was getting anxious and just hoping it would go smoothly.

"Baby, engagement – you don't do things by halves, do ya, kid?" Seth said wryly, but she was too focused on what lay ahead to really pay attention.

"Oh, and maybe don't have a go at her dad in front of her," she continued, as if she hadn't even heard him. "If you've still got an issue with him, now is _so_ not the time."

"Ah, sis, stop worrying. I'm sure me and Chibs can keep our shit in check like adults for one damn lunch. I ain't happy with him knocking you up like some overgrown horny teenager and I'm sure he's pissed at me for upsetting you, so we're kinda even for now."

"Thank you, I think," she sighed. "I just really want us all to get along and it's tough enough trying to win Kerri over. Really don't need you two in some dick-swinging contest."

"Okay, that is so not what this is," Seth protested, following his sister into the house she now shared with the Samcro president.

"Hey," Eden said brightly, heralding their arrival. "Look who's here!"

"Seth," Chibs said with a little nod, trying to suss out where things stood with them, but prepared to make an effort for his old lady's sake. "Good to see you, man."

"You too," the boxing coach conceded, also making the effort by holding out his hand to shake and getting a grin in return. "And this must be Kerrianne …"

"Aye, this is my wee girl," Chibs smiled, nodding towards the sullen teenager. "Darlin', this is Eden's brother Seth. He owns a gym in town, been working wi' some o' the lads."

Kerrianne muttered something that might have passed for hello, just about shaking the huge hand held out to her under her father's pointed look.

"Why don't you see about setting the table, pet? Seth, take a seat, mate – beer?"

"Wouldn't say no."

"I'll help," Eden said quickly, looking for an excuse to get her old man on his own in the kitchen and following in his wake. "Well, I take it you told her something, given that she looks completely unimpressed."

"Aye," Chibs sighed. "Told her about the divorce - and that you've taken leave o' your senses and agreed to marry me. She'll come round. Eventually. But here, never mind that for a second, you and Seth? You good?"

"I think so," she smiled, a weight clearly having lifted off her shoulders and Chibs smiled to see it, snaking an arm around her from behind and kissing her neck. "I think he's pleasantly surprised you're making an honest woman of me."

"Good, I'm glad, love. Truly. Hated seeing you upset and fretting."

He cuddled her close, blowing a raspberry on her shoulder just to see his girl laugh, his hands palming her growing belly - only to quickly pull away with a caught look at the loud tut from the doorway.

"I needed more cutlery," Kerrianne grimaced.

"Uh, top drawer over here, love – let me …" Chibs tried, in an effort to distract his daughter from registering exactly what she might have seen, but already sensing it was too late and her brain was catching up.

Sure enough, Kerrianne's dark eyes narrowed suspiciously and then widened all at once in something close to horror. "Are you … Oh my god."

* * *

"Kerri-"

"Oh. My. God. Are you _pregnant?_" she demanded, in a tone that wouldn't have been out of place had she been inquiring if her father's girlfriend was in fact carrying the bubonic plague.

But it turned out the teenager didn't need an answer. Eden's awkward hesitation was all the confirmation it took and Kerrianne shook her head in disbelief, reeling at the unexpected revelation.

"Jesus, could this _be_ more embarrassing?!"

"Embarrassing?" Eden said finally, torn between bemusement and exasperation. "You know, for someone who doesn't want to be treated like a child, you're definitely acting like one."

"Oh, and I suppose you and my da were being responsible grown-ups when he got you up the duff?" Kerrianne practically spat back. "At least now I know why he's in such a hurry to marry you – he just feels guilty for knocking you up!"

"Oi!" Chibs interrupted loudly. "You watch that flaming tone, young lady."

"I'm sorry," his affronted daughter started, her voice rising almost hysterically. "Were you talking to me or your bloody child bride?"

"_Kerri!_" the biker roared after her, but the door had already slammed behind her hard enough to rattle it on its hinges and he winced before turning to his weary old lady. "Jesus Christ … Sorry, darlin'."

"Child bride?" Eden echoed, still staring after Kerrianne, even though she was long gone. "I'm thirty-five!"

"And I'm sick o' being made to feel like I've been let out o' some bloody nursing home on day release," Chibs scowled. "Although, if that lass carries on like this, I'll be begging one to let me in for a bit o' fucking peace!"

Letting him tug her into his arms, Eden wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest – dissolving into helpless giggles despite herself.

"How much o' that did you hear, man?" Chibs called out to Seth, as their guest waited it out in the lounge.

"Every word," came the good-humoured response.

"Bloody marvellous," Chibs muttered.


	54. Chapter 54

**Fifty-Four**

"You knew? You knew and you didn't tell me!"

"Kerri …"

"How could you not think that's maybe something I'd want to know?"

"Kerri, will you let me get a word in sideways, love?" came her mother's surprisingly patient voice from the other end of the phone. "Don't go getting all offended over who knew what and when. Your da rightly thought if anyone should know first, it's _me_. Or he did once he knew himsel' anyway. But then he wanted to be the one to tell _you_, so I promised I'd gi' him the space to do that. Although if it's taken this long …"

"It's ridiculous. He's too old to have a baby and he didn't even tell me!" Kerrianne fumed, her eyes and the back of her throat burning with tears and pent-up emotion as she sat on the floor at the foot of her bed in the guest room, cell phone pressed to one ear and picking furiously at the hole in the knee of her jeans with her free hand. "I had to see them all over each other and it was bloody obvious either she's a fat cow or … or-"

The teenager couldn't even bring herself to say it, but she didn't get the chance anyway as her mother cut her off sharply, shocking her with the anger now infusing her tone.

"Kerrianne Larkin-Telford, you have _no_ business calling any woman the likes o' that, especially when she's expecting! No, you listen to me, my girl – whether you like it or not, that girl's pregnant and I will _not_ have it said that my daughter caused her unnecessary stress. I raised you better than that."

"Must have imagined you calling the ones hanging round Sambel _tarts_ and _sluts_ then …"

"You're lucky you're on the other end o' a phone," Fiona warned. "Speaking back to your mother on top o' everything else. Do not test me, Kerri, I'm serious. Look, your relationship wi' your da or his … partner is not for me to interfere in. I won't stand in the way o' you spending time wi' them, but I won't force you to do anything you don't want either. So I'm not asking you to like this Eden, but you will _not_ be disrespectful. Especially when you're a guest in her home. And for your da's sake, if nothing else."

"Why are you being so calm about this?" Kerrianne asked plaintively. "He's supposed to be _your_ flaming husband. He's shacked up wi' some other woman, getting her pregnant, and you're pissed off wi' _me!_"

"Oh, sweetheart," her mother sighed. "Look, don't you be worrying your wee head about me. You and your dad are what's important in this. Don't let this get in the way o' having him in your life. I know how much that would mean to the both o' you."

The teenager snorted at that. "Aye, right. He's not gonna want _me_ now he's got a whole new life and a baby."

"That really isn't how it works, pet," Fiona said softly. "We've had a lot to contend wi' over the years, me and your da, but he loves you, Kerri. He has always loved you so much and I could never claim otherwise. Lord knows he has his faults, but your dad has the biggest heart o' any man I've ever met. And it's soft – like his head," she added wryly. "Go easy on him, yeah?"

Brushing away a few tears that had escaped down her cheeks, Kerrianne mulled that over, considering what it meant that even her mother could be so apparently accepting of the situation. And, of course, part of her had known all along that she was being childish. Trying to cling to her father now, having missed out on so much with him when she was actually small enough for that behaviour to perhaps have been more justified.

She could see she'd handled it all so badly.

And now, she didn't know how to climb down from the position of hostility she'd put herself in. How could she expect Eden to welcome her when she'd treated her so appallingly in the face of nothing but kindness? And what if her dad couldn't forgive her either for upsetting his … his girlfriend – no, fiancée – and when she was pregnant to boot?

"Kerri?" Fiona tried tentatively, hearing the sniffles down the phone. "You still there, love?"

"I don't know what to do, mum," the teen whispered, still focusing on the frayed denim surrounding the hole in her jeans in a bid to keep from totally dissolving into tears like a baby. "I've made a hash o' everything. They'll not want to put up wi' me."

But her mother gave a little laugh at that.

"There isn't a parent in the world who hasn't had their patience tried by their child," she said. "They don't just give up and set them out on the doorstep. Now, come on, you're not such a wee girl anymore – you understand consequences. If you've been rude to Eden, you can't be expecting her to think too kindly o' you until you make amends. And if you've made your da angry, well, he might have every right to be by the sounds o' it. And maybe he'll shout and lose that temper o' his, but it'll blow over. Especially if you do your part to make up for it. Have you tried saying sorry?"

"I … don't want to go down there," Kerrianne muttered, flushing just at the thought of it, as hurt and anger gave way to embarrassment at the thought of what everyone must think of her. She liked to think she was so grown-up, but she'd now repeatedly kicked off like a spoilt child, throwing her toys out of her pram at the thought of anything taking her dad further away from her.

She was supposed to be thinking about university and what she wanted to do with her life, for crying out loud. Although what the hell were her friends going to think about her having a half-brother or half-sister so far apart in age she could be their ma …

Her own mother seemed to know at least some of what was racing through her mind, waiting patiently on the other end of the line.

"Just say sorry, Kerri," she said softly. "I know it's hard, but your da'll forgive you. He'd forgive you a hell o' a lot more than a wee blow-up 'cause you've had a shock. And I'm sure Eden will understand too. And if she doesn't, as long as I know you've tried, I'll soon set madam straight, pregnant or not. I'm on your side, you know, love. Always."

"Even when I've been a stupid eejit?"

"Even then," Fiona insisted. "Doesn't mean I won't set you straight too. I'm your ma. It's what I'm here for."

"I love you, mum."

"I love you too, baby. Now, dry those tears and go make me proud. Gi' your dad a hug from me."

"I will," Kerrianne promised. "Bye, mum."

* * *

Having washed her face, splashing cold water on her red-rimmed eyes, Kerrianne reluctantly crept down the stairs to hover near the bottom, trying to hear what was going on. She was sure her father's girlfriend would be giving off about her behaviour and, sure enough, she could hear Eden's voice drifting from the lounge.

"At least she knows," she was saying. "Now we just need to give her time to get used to the idea."

"Aye," her dad sighed, his Scottish accent unmistakable and his voice carrying more easily. "But either way, she apologises to you."

"Filip-"

"No, love, I ain't having her being disrespectful and that's the end o' it."

"Just … go easy, okay?" Eden soothed. "It's bound to be a bit weird for her. You're her dad and she doesn't want to share you. Especially if it rules out any chance of you and her mom getting back together."

"She should know that ain't gonna happen …"

Even without the talking to from her mother, Kerrianne knew she couldn't begrudge her father his anger, but she was still taken aback to hear his girlfriend defend her somewhat. She couldn't help feeling like she didn't deserve that, as she strained to hear the couple. The conversation was clearly continuing, but their voices had dropped and she could only make out the occasional word – at least until her dad's voice noticeably lifted.

"It'll fucking kill me not being there to take care o' you …" she could hear him saying.

"I know, I know …"

That was Eden again, still softer and harder to make out as Kerrianne listened, only just making out her own name amid the next bit.

"… so I really think I should just go and ..."

Fresh guilt seemed to settle in the teenager's stomach, as the bad feeling she was getting about what was going on and her part in it took hold. She hadn't meant to cause quite so much turmoil in making her feelings known, but now it sounded to her like Eden was actually talking about leaving. Surely she couldn't be serious though? She was _pregnant_ – she couldn't just take off, could she?

The guilt was already turning to near panic at the thought of having driven the older woman out. As weird as it was and as uncomfortable as it made her to think of her silver-haired dad as someone's _boyfriend_, never mind the father of a tiny baby, even she could see that he was happy. If she had managed to destroy that, she couldn't imagine how he could forgive her – no matter what her mother might say.

"You agreed it was for the best …"

That was Eden again, seeming to stand her ground on whatever it was they were talking about.

"I wouldn't go that far, love. You leaving me ain't ever gonna be _best .._."

Kerrianne's stomach lurched in disbelief as her father seemed to confirm what she had thought she was hearing – Eden was going to leave and her dad would be heartbroken and the baby would have to grow up without a father and it would all be her fault and literally _everyone_ would hate her for being a hateful bitch.

_Oh god._

* * *

"Please don't leave my dad because o' me."

Eden and Chibs both looked up at the small voice from the doorway, exchanging a glance when they saw Kerrianne looking at them both anxiously, her eyes red-rimmed.

"I'm sorry for what I said. I won't be disrespectful again," the teenager managed, the words coming tumbling out even as she couldn't seem to help dissolving into fresh tears. "Please don't leave because o' m-me, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, hey, hey, hey," Eden soothed, holding out a hand to hold Chibs back, but immediately jumping up herself and heading for the girl to slip an arm around her shaking shoulders, all the animosity she had been shown forgotten in the face of such distress. "Kerri, please, don't cry, sweetie – it's okay."

"It's n-not! If you l-leave 'cause o' me, dad'll h-hate me!"

"Your dad could never hate you, Kerri. Never ever. Come on, come and sit with me for a minute. Filip, maybe you could go and make some tea? Go on, we'll be fine here."

Ushering Kerrianne over to the couch, Eden guided her down on it and then sat herself, taking a deep breath as she tried to consider where best to start and the teenager struggled to pull herself together, wiping at her eyes with end of her sleeve.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you," Kerrianne tried tentatively, looking like she wouldn't be surprised to have her apology thrown back in her face after everything.

"And I'm sorry you've had such a lot dropped on you all at once. I do it get it, you know. When my mom started dating after my dad … I hated the thought of it. No one was ever going to be as good as my dad."

"Your parents split up too?"

"My dad died when I was pretty young," Eden said softly, looking down at her hands.

"Oh," came the response, loaded with fresh guilt at having put her foot in it. "Sorry."

"It's okay, you didn't know," Eden said, offering the sniffling teen a little smile. "It was a long time ago. I still miss him though, so much. I was such a daddy's girl. So, yeah, I know how hard it must have been for you not having yours around growing up. You have that chance now though and I promise you, I never want to get in the way of that. And I don't want to disrespect your mom, or be forcing myself into your life. But I would really like if we could just get along. For your dad's sake. Because I do love him, Kerri. The last thing I want is to make you uncomfortable, but I just want you to know that."

"If he can't be with mum, I don't want him to be alone or miserable, I just never thought …" Kerrianne trailed off, not even really knowing how to explain, but Eden seemed to understand anyway. Some of it at least.

"I was shocked when your dad first told me he was married," Eden admitted. "I … I really liked him and I just hadn't realised. I really didn't want to be getting in the middle of something like that. But then he explained and … I gave it a chance. I guess I didn't really expect all this to come of it. Look, Kerri, like I said, I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I don't want to patronise you either and you deserve to know what's going on. You were right, about me and your dad being irresponsible. We didn't plan for this baby and that was dumb. Kids are a big deal. But we are happy now we've got our heads round it and I'm so glad I've got your dad in this with me. But none of it changes how important you are to him. He loves you so much and he hates that he hasn't always been there. It would mean the world to him to be able to at least try to make up for that."

Avoiding looking at the woman sat with her, Kerrianne turned her attention back to the hole in her jeans, trying to force herself to sound way more casual than she felt.

"I thought he wouldn't be interested in me when he's got a new wife and a wee baby to worry about it," she mumbled.

"Oh, Kerri," Eden sighed, hesitantly reached to squeeze the teenager's fingers, unsure how welcome the gesture would be, but wanting to get her attention and make her look up. "You'll always be his baby, honey. And you're this baby's big sister. You'll always be family. And much as I don't want to be forcing myself into your life, I don't want you to think you don't matter to me. You're important to your dad, so you're important to me. I always want to make you welcome here. And I know you've got your mom and I'd never try to push her out or anything, but if you ever need someone to talk to … well, I'm here."

They both looked up at the clearing throat to see Chibs stood leaning in the doorway, any pretence of having been making tea gone as he simply crossed the room and leaned down to drop a little kiss on top of Eden's head and one on his daughter's.

"My girls …" he murmured, just as Kerrianne threw herself into his arms.

"I'm sorry, dad, I'm sorry for everything," she tried.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, baby," he soothed, wrapping her up in a tight hug. "You're all right, yer aul' da's got ya."

Chibs' eyes met Eden's over the top of Kerrianne's head and she offered her old man a small smile, before getting up to slip out and give them a chance to talk.

"Thank you," he mouthed.


	55. Chapter 55

**Fifty-Five**

"How in the hell are you still fitting in your jeans?" Lyla demanded, the second Eden walked into the clubhouse behind Chibs and Kerrianne. "You look gorgeous, but I'm just saying, I'd hate you if you weren't my friend."

"Promise you won't laugh?" Eden warned, before glancing around to check no one was paying attention to them, pulling Lyla into a quiet corner before lifting up the hem of the floaty white top she was wearing under her favourite black leather jacket to give her a quick peek.

"What the …?"

"Filip had to help me use a hair tie to fasten them 'cause I couldn't do up the button," Eden sighed, having all but given up on finding anything suitable in her wardrobe after a lot of agonising over what to wear to the clubhouse for what was now both Kerrianne's welcome party and her and Chibs' impromptu engagement bash. In the end, she'd settled for the simple outfit, straightened her hair, and hoped adding her leopard print heels, winged eyeliner and a slick of red lipstick would give it the lift it needed. She wasn't usually that fussed about what the club hangers-on thought, but she didn't particularly like the thought of giving any croweaters the chance to sneer that the Samcro president could do better.

Lyla fought to keep a straight face as promised at the sight of her friend's unbuttoned jeans straining over her little baby bump and being kept in place by a hair tie looped through the buttonhole and around the button. Then she gave in and dissolved into laughter.

"Bitch," Eden pouted, but there was a twinkle in her green eyes.

"Sorry, babe," Lyla said, trying to rein it in and failing miserably. "You just better be careful or you'll have someone's eye out if that busts open! Sorry, sorry – listen, don't worry, we'll go shopping tomorrow and get you some cute maternity clothes. You can't be more than like a week away from properly popping out and _that_ just ain't gonna cut it."

"I bet you fit in the same jeans the whole way through your pregnancy with Piper," Eden grumbled, letting the blonde link her arm through hers and guide her towards the bar.

"Yeah," Lyla admitted. "But then I wasn't eating because I was trying to hide the fact I was pregnant in the first place from his dad, so … yeah, don't go down that route. Not that you have to worry with Chibs. I've literally _never_ seen that man so happy and I just know he's gonna love it once you start really showing."

Sensing that her friend didn't want to dwell too long on her own past, Eden let her turn the conversation back on her and smiled as she watched her old man in the thick of his brothers, still always seeming aware of her presence while laughing and joking and getting slapped on the back as they congratulated him.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I think I struck gold with that one … Oh, hey, Charlie – uh, what's this?"

"That," the prospect beamed proudly, handing her a tall glass of something that looked deep pink, refreshing, and utterly out of place in the clubhouse, topped with a slice of lime, blueberries skewered on a cocktail stick, a little paper umbrella and a straw. "Is a blueberry mojito. I watched a YouTube video and learned how to make them for you and Kerri – they're _virgin_ blueberry mojitos."

"Is that 'cause they were made by a virgin?" Tig leaned over his shoulder to chip in, before smacking him on the ass and walking off laughing, clearly satisfied that his work was done – having made the prospect blush to the tips of his ears.

"I'm not … I just … Asshole," Charlie mumbled, trying to brush off the teasing. "I can make you something else if you don't like it, Eden, but I just thought it'd be something different and it said on the internet blueberries are a superfood, so they're, like, really good for you and the baby."

"It is really good!" Kerrianne piped up, already sipping hers through her straw as she perched on a stool at the bar, trying not to stare around too obviously as she surveyed the packed clubhouse.

"Well then, I'm gonna have to try it, aren't I?" Eden smiled, glad to see the teenager looking happier and slipping an arm around Charlie to give him a little squeeze before taking her drink. "You're the sweetest, Charlie, thank you."

"Welcome," he grinned. "Hope you're hungry too, 'cause TO's firing up the grill in the yard and Vee and Bonnie brought a ton of food on top of what Ly organised."

"You're gonna need a bigger hair tie," Lyla whispered, getting a mock evil eye in response, just before they were interrupted by a shrill whistle that cut above even the music and chatter, hushing the gathered crowd.

"Hey, listen up, listen up!" Tig hollered, shouldering his way to a prominent spot and dragging Chibs with him. "Okay, listen, normally I'd leave it to our president here to make the speeches, but since this is all more or less for his ass in the first place, I just wanna say a few words. First of all, we have to properly welcome his little girl Kerrianne – Kerri, where are you, baby? Ah, there we go, sitting at the bar. Chip off the old block, huh? Kerri, we're so glad you're here, sweetheart. Even if we can't quite believe this asshole right here had a hand in making something so beautiful, ain't that right?"

The VP broke off to look round at his laughing and cheering brothers, even as Chibs rolled his eyes and took the jokes at his expense in good humour.

"Speaking of things we can't believe, turns out he's gonna have another go at turning out a gorgeous kiddie and, boy, is he punching above his weight with the girl who's brave enough to agree to make an honest man of him. Eden? Eden, come on over here, beautiful …"

"Oh god," she whispered, reluctantly trying to hand her drink off to Lyla so she could join him.

"Bring it with ya, baby," Tig called, waving her over, impatient in his enthusiasm. "Come on, atta girl, don't be shy – you're among family … Here she is."

Her cheeks flushed at being thrown into the proverbial spotlight, Eden accepted a warm kiss on the cheek from Tig before taking her place beside Chibs, her fingers automatically seeking his out and discretely curling around them as he shot her a smile and a little wink that still had the power to make her stomach flutter.

"Jesus, blueberries?" her old man noted in amusement, nodding his head towards her drink. "Make the most o' that, darlin, 'cause it might just be the healthiest thing to ever grace this place."

"Ladies, gents, and all you other bastards, raise your drinks," Tig shouted. "And let's hear it for the president of Samcro and his queen – to Chibs and Eden!"

"Chibs and Eden!" came the roar.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Chibs and Eden? This is meant to be their party," Lyla fussed hours later, looking around for the couple as she tried to keep a handle on everything and make sure everything went smoothly. "Well, theirs and Kerri's. Where the hell are they?"

"If I had to guess," Tig drawled lazily, from where he'd commandeered a couch to sprawl on his back, full of food and with his head resting in Venus' lap as she chatted casually with Flick and some of the Red Woody girls. "I'd say holed up in a dorm, banging like a barn door in a force ten gale."

"Alexander…" Venus frowned, cutting in to show her feigned disapproval, even though amusement threatened to spoil the effect as she tapped him lightly on the nose. "A _shred_ of decorum, if you please."

"Sorry, baby, but ya ain't gonna tell me I'm wrong," he grinned, remorseless. "Ain't gonna take much to get that knocked-up little motor running, plus they've got the kid staying at theirs and now Eden's taking off soon to visit her mom – gotta get your kicks while you can, believe me. Ain't that right, Ly?"

Looking at him sharply, Lyla's eyes narrowed in thinly veiled suspicion. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, but the knowing little smile on his face was sly and they both knew it.

"You're such a stirrer, Trager," she muttered, before flouncing off, waiting only long enough to be sure the VP was no longer watching before marching up one of his brothers and glaring at him. "You, outside. Now."

"What the hell'd I do now?" Knox asked, as soon as he'd been trailed out round a quiet corner out the back of the clubhouse, out of sight and earshot of the rest of the revellers.

"Does Tig know?" Lyla demanded, blue eyes blazing.

"Does Tig know what?"

"About us, dumbass!"

"Us? Darlin', you were very clear there is no us …" the Rogue River sergeant drawled, as he leaned back against the wall.

"Then why would he- Ugh, never mind," she snapped.

"Listen, Ly, if Tig knows or at least suspects, it ain't through anything I've done."

Lyla looked at him, taken aback at that and her pointed glare clearly suggesting he should elaborate. A little smirk tugged at the handsome biker's lips though, even as her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Tig's sharp," Knox shrugged. "Gotta be, all those years as SAA to Clay. He ain't blind. And you, sweetheart, can't keep your eyes off me."

Those blue eyes widened, outrage crossing the little blonde's face. "As if!"

But Knox only chuckled at the response. "Deny it all ya like, but I got eyes too, ya know."

"You need to get them checked then!" she responded hotly. "And if that's what you think you saw – and you're _wrong_ – then _you_ must be looking at _me!_"

"Difference is, baby girl …" he started, deliberately letting his gaze rake over her from head to toe, lingering on her slender curves with a slow smile. "I ain't gonna deny it."

Lyla flushed under his blatant appraisal, crossing her arms over her chest and trying not to sound flustered. "Well … Well, stop it then."

"Yeah?" the biker said coolly, pushing away from the wall to close in on her. "That really what you want?"

"Ye-Yes," she managed, trying to back away from him, only to end up twisted around and now with her back to the wall. Literally and figuratively.

"I'm getting real tired of playing, Lyla. If you tell me to stop, I'm gonna stop," he warned, his hands braced on either side of her head as he leaned in tantalisingly close. "Do you want me to stop?"

She glared up at him defiantly, taking in the knowing curl of his lips, those eyes – a deeper blue than her own – that seemed to burn into her, that stray lock of jet-black hair her fingers itched to reach up for.

"Ly …"

But before he could say another word, her hand shot out to grab the back of his head and bring his mouth crashing down on her in a hungry, almost desperate kiss.

"Does this mean—"

"Shut up, Knox," Lyla managed, mumbling against his lips.

"Aidan," he corrected breathlessly, his hands gripping her hips to boost her up easily and let her legs wrap around his waist. "If you're gonna fuck me, you can at least call me by my first name …"

"Shut up, Aidan."

* * *

Tucked away in one of the rooms behind the bar, the music and noise of the party drifted through from the main part of the clubhouse but, instead of actually intruding, it somehow only seemed to create a sense of privacy – a sense that out there, life was simply continuing oblivious.

Chibs, having sidled up to Eden as she chatted with Bug and his wife, had given his old lady's ass a cheeky little squeeze as he stole a kiss and murmured in her ear for her to join him when she could get away. But that had clearly been easier said than done.

He could picture her, all smiles and with a few words for everyone who stopped her to congratulate her on the engagement, the baby or both. He didn't mind. Far from it. He loved that she had fitted into his world the way she had. That his brothers, his club family had accepted her with ease. And he was relieved that even the less-than-ideal situation with Kerrianne seemed to be slowly resolving itself.

So he was happy to wait. To take a few moments to just sink down on the edge of the bed and consider how his life had changed over the last while. He knew he had so much to be thankful for.

But that didn't mean his losses had been pushed completely out of his mind.

In fact, in some ways, everything he had gained only added a fresh sharpness to the weight of past tragedies.

He raked a hand through his greying hair, listening to the usual sounds of the clubhouse and trying to focus on the here and now. But it was all too easy to let his mind wander. To imagine things as they could have been, had things worked out differently at every cross in the road.

Day after day, he tried to keep it all bottled up as much as he could. As much as any man could. He had a club to lead, an old lady to care for – a gorgeous, incredible woman he didn't know what he'd done to deserve – a daughter to build bridges with, and a baby on the way. A chance to be a father again, to both of his kids and, this time, to get it right.

Maybe that was why his emotions were getting the better of him. So much had been taken from him, but he still had more than he could ever have imagined.

Chibs forced himself to his feet, pacing the room as he tried to get a hold of himself. He didn't want Eden to see him like this. Not now. She was happy. She deserved that. _He_ was happy, for fuck's sake. He just …

"Filip?"

* * *

Standing by the door, Eden realised her old man hadn't even heard it open and, when he turned at the sound of her voice, she could see why. The sight of so much pain etched over his scarred face made her stomach lurch and, before she could even think about it, she was across the room and simply wrapping him in her arms.

"I … I'm okay," he tried, his voice husky with barely contained emotion. "Just need to gi' my fucking head a wobble here."

But she could tell that wasn't true, only tightening her embrace. It wasn't like she didn't understand. She'd been on enough of an emotional roller-coaster herself lately to recognise his for what it was.

"My poor baby," she whispered softly, just holding him tighter. "Oh, sweetheart …"

The biker president – her strong, protective, loving old man – finally crumbling under the weight of everything he'd had to bear almost broke Eden's heart on the spot. She rocked him gently, her fingers stroking comfortingly through his hair as she felt hot tears on her neck and he held her as if he was afraid of letting go and losing her too.

"Fuck," Chibs finally choked out, trying to pull away and take a deep shuddering breath, wiping at his red-rimmed eyes. "Ach, my sweet girl, this ain't fair on you. I can't be putting this shite on you, especially now."

"Stop," Eden said gently. "Don't say that. Of course you can."

"I don't want you thinking I ain't happy, because I am. Jesus, darlin', I really am. All this, you and this wee one, you mean the fucking _world_ to me."

"I know. But you're allowed to feel more than one thing at once, you know," she said, guiding him towards the bed and taking one of his hands in hers as she sat beside him on its edge. "It's a lot right now. And it's all bound to make you think of … of people you've lost. I understand, honest I do."

"Just don't seem right," Chibs confessed, as he hung his head. "Like wi' Aoife … That wee lass never hurt anyone and look what it got her. Dragged to the arse-end o' nowhere, terrified. Not even shoes on her feet and … and the beginnings o' a wee baby in her belly, and that _bastard_ … That murdering bastard snuffed her out like she was fucking _nothin'_. And here I am. Still here. Still here and wi' a second chance I do not deserve. And those wee kiddies o' Jax's … Losing their mum and their da before they're barely old enough to know what's what. How the fuck is that fair, huh? How the fuck is any o' that _fair?_"

He didn't even seem to realise he was getting louder and louder until Eden flinched under the sheer agony in his rough voice, tears spilling down her own cheeks as she floundered helplessly for answers she didn't have.

"I'm sorry, pet, I'm sorry," Chibs managed, dropping from a near shout to a whisper and taking her in his arms again to cuddle her close as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "I love you. I never want you to doubt that, my darlin'. Jesus, Eden, I'm a fucking mess. I'm meant to be the one taking care o' you."

"Maybe you just need to let me take care of you sometimes too," she whispered into his neck.

"You've been through enough without me adding my shite to it …"

"Hey, maybe I want to be there for the man I love. For my baby's daddy. If we're going to be a family, you can't shut me out, Filip. Not even if you think you're protecting me. I'm not talking about club stuff. I'm get that. I'm talking about you hurting and trying to put a brave face on it for my sake."

"I just let it all get on top o' me for a minute," he said, as they stayed wrapped in each other's arms. "Thinking too much. Y'know, Jacky woulda loved hearing about the wee one. He'd have ripped the piss outta me something fierce, wondering how I got me hands on such a beautiful lass, but he'd have been so happy for us. Tara too …"

Eden only held him tighter as his voice thickened again and he buried his face against her shoulder, clearly still thinking about the violent loss of the couple he had loved dearly. The parents who had so tragically left behind such small children.

"Thank you, love."

"For what?" Eden whispered at his heartfelt words, feeling him draw back only to take her face in his hands and kiss her lips tenderly.

"Being you. Being mine."

"Always," she said softly, kissing him again. "Filip, are you sure I should go visit my mom right now? I can stay if you need me to …"

But he took a deep breath, one that was steadier now, managing a little smile for her as his hands still cupped her cheeks. "I'll be fine, promise. I mean, I'll miss the hell outta ya, but I'll be all right. After everything, I want you to have a nice wee break, love. There is one thing we ain't talked about though …"

"What's that?"

Chibs looked at her unsurely, as if trying to gauge how carefully he should tread. "What it means for my old lady to be heading off on a road trip without me," he said.

* * *

Eden raised her eyebrows in question, not fully following her old man's train of thought and trying to make light of it as she smiled. "I thought we agreed no road pussy …"

He smirked at that. "Wee minx. I'm thinking o' your safety, darlin'. Things ain't as bad on that front as they have been, but much as it pains me to have to say it, being my old lady makes you more o' a target. Maybe if Seth was going too, then I wouldn't have to worry, but …"

"But he's tied up right now with the gym," she said softly, hating to see the guilt on her old man's face. "Hey, I knew what I was getting into here. And I'm sure you don't need to worry anyway. I mean, surely there's less chance of any trouble at my mom's?"

"I'm hoping so," Chibs sighed. "But still, I ain't about to take chances wi' my girl."

"Filip …" Eden began, a warning note to her voice as she started to suspect she knew where this was going.

"I want a patch wi' you."

"Because my mom won't think that's weird at all – me turning up with some random biker in tow."

"Look, I know it ain't what you had in mind," Chibs said. "But I'd never fucking forgive mesel' if anything happened to you. It'd bloody destroy me, lass."

It was Eden's turn to sigh at that, recognising the truth in his words by the look in his eyes. But before she could agree or disagree, an idea struck him.

"Take Charlie," he said suddenly. "Let him drive you down there, carry your bags, just keep an eye. I know he's only a prospect, but that lad would run through fucking brick walls for you. I'd trust him to look out for you. And to be honest, it might do him good to get away for a bit too."

His old lady had been fully prepared to argue her case against not needing a babysitter, but at the mention of the young man she'd grown so fond of, she couldn't help but soften.

"I did kinda adopt him as my little brother," she nodded. "It's probably time he met the rest of the family."

"Good girl," Chibs smiled, relieved to have apparently found a solution that actually suited them both. "I'll gi' him his orders and let you fill him in on when you wanna hit the road. Now, c'mere to me, my darlin' …"

Letting him pull her back into his arms, Eden's hands slid over his chest as she leaned up for a kiss he was only too willing to share.

"That lot out there probably already think we've snuck off for a shag," he murmured roughly against her lips, his strong hands sliding to her ass. "No point wasting the moment …"


	56. Chapter 56

Author's Note: Apologies for the longer than usual delay - I've actually been having some health issues over the past few months and, without wanting to make it sound more serious than it is, it's kinda been a lot to deal with. I usually turn to writing as a distraction from the real world, but it's just not worked out that way lately. Hopefully, I'm starting to get back on track. Thanks to all those reading, reviewing or DMing!

* * *

**Fifty-Six**

"So …" Chibs said finally, slapping a hand on the back of his patient young prospect. "Anything happens to that girl o' mine, you best just keep on going 'til you hit Mexico, son. This ain't a holiday. Not for you."

"It _is_," Eden mouthed silently to Charlie, rolling her eyes at her old man's fussing, even though she couldn't help smiling at his concern.

She was pretty sure every chapter of the Sons, not just in California, but on the west coast had been briefed about their travel plans at this point. And now Charlie was well furnished with contact details and instructions of who to call first in an emergency, depending on where they were at the time. There had probably been military incursions undertaken with less robust back-up plans in place.

"And you," the president warned, rounding on his old lady and taking her in his arms. "Don't you be leading the lad astray and letting him neglect his duty. He's got a top rocker to earn."

"Sir, yes, sir," Eden teased, getting a mock glare in return, which she countered by planting a little kiss on her old man's lips. "You worry too much."

"About my pregnant wee fiancée disappearing off without me to take care o' her? Aye, I do," he shrugged, not even trying to deny it. "I need you back here in one piece, love. Then I'll stop worrying."

"I'll be back before you have time to miss me," his old lady smiled gently.

"Not possible," Chibs disagreed, kissing her again as her arms slipped around his neck, reluctant to tear himself away even though they'd already said their goodbyes in private. "You take care o' yersel' and this wee one, you hear me? Call me when you get there. And any time you like after that, day or night."

Eden nodded, letting her forehead rest against his as she looked up into those warm brown eyes she loved so much. "And you be safe too. At least try to stay out of trouble."

"I'll try," he managed, unconvincingly and with a small grin and one last kiss that was all too brief for either of their liking. "Love you, my darlin'. Now, go on, get out o' here before I change my mind about this whole thing."

"Love you," she said, reluctantly slipping out of his arms to go and climb into the passenger seat of her car.

"Oi, prospect," the president called, just as Charlie shifted from where he'd been discretely waiting leaning on the driver's door with his eyes averted. "One last thing …"

"More instructions?" the young man sighed. "Shit, boss, I'm not totally stupid-"

But Chibs simply strode towards him, slapping him on the chest and slipping a wad of notes into the top pocket of his shirt as he did. "Make sure she enjoys hersel'."

* * *

"Your mom does know I'm coming, right? I feel bad for, like, intruding on family shit …"

Sat across from Charlie in a booth of a little diner she'd liked the look of as somewhere to stop for a bathroom break and to grab lunch, slurping vanilla milkshake through a straw while he toyed with a few left over fries, Eden frowned at the sudden uncertainty on her travel buddy's face.

"She knows, but you shouldn't feel like that, Charlie – you're not _intruding_."

"It is kinda weird though, having to say you're bringing some guy who, like, works for your boyfriend."

"Hey, I know Chibs has his reasons for wanting someone with me," Eden said. "But you're not just _some guy_ – you're my friend and you're keeping me company on a trip, looking out for me. What's weird about that? Besides, I thought we'd agreed you're like my little brother? I meant it, you know. And I wouldn't have agreed to this if you were just anyone. You're gonna meet my mom, she's gonna love you, we're gonna hang out, relax, have fun. So I don't want to hear any more of this intruding bullshit, okay? _Okay?_"

"Okay," Charlie agreed, a grin spreading across his face. "So, sis, you want another milkshake before we hit the road again?"

"Mmm, tempted as I am … Better not," came the sigh. "I'll only have to pee again. I think this kid's sitting on my bladder or something. Sorry, but that's the kind of TMI you'd better get used to."

"We can stop as often as you like," the prospect said gamely. "Whatever you need."

"You're so gonna regret saying that," Eden teased. "We've still got a long-ass way to go."

"Speaking of which, you haven't even told me exactly where we're going yet. Just to head for Bakersfield."

"Yeah, we'll still have a couple of hours to go after that," came the slightly hesitant response, drawing a quizzical look from Charlie.

"So, like, LA?" he pushed.

"Santa Barbara …"

Charlie's eyes bugged from across the table. "Santa Barbara? Is your mom, like, totally minted?"

Eden laughed a little sheepishly, starting to fish her phone out of her bag. "She's … She's done okay for herself. So, uh, this is my mom …"

"Your mom's on Instagram? Holy shit, she's got nearly two million followers! Is she famous or something? Oh wow, that's not your mom, is it?"

"That's her, that's Celeste Moore," Eden sighed, as Charlie took her phone from her to swipe through a few pictures, wide-eyed. "She's … I dunno, reclaiming the whole influencer thing from the young 'uns or something – she runs yoga classes aimed at older women, but she's got, like, this cult status since she discovered social media. She was doing well anyway and then Matthew McConaughey shared one of her videos or something and boom, it just really took off. She's been on TV a few times. Mostly to talk yoga, fitness, mental health, that sort of thing. But she has bagged a few acting roles too, just as an extra. CSI, that sort of stuff."

"No. Fucking. Way," Charlie exhaled, sitting back in the booth and looking fairly thrown by the whole development. "That is so cool. And sorry, but your mom's a total fox. Does Chibs know he's closer to her age than yours?"

"Oh, bring that up with him, I dare you – he loves being reminded," Eden said wryly. "And anyway, they're not _that_ close in age. Chibs is only fifty. My mom's sixty-three."

"Still less of a gap than with you," Charlie teased, shying out of her reach as she tried to take her phone back, making her swat at him with a copy of the diner's menu.

"Are all little brothers this annoying?"

"Well, you picked me, so you've only got yourself to blame," Charlie grinned. "So what's your mom's place like? Does she live alone or …? Fuck, is this it?"

"Yeah, you're gonna love it – it's gorgeous," Eden smiled. "And it's got a pool out the back, although we can totally hang at the beach too. And there's a gym, nothing too fancy, but you can keep up your training and impress Chibs. Mom's got herself a partner, Gray – they've been together, like, ten years or something, so he'll be there and his kids might drop round if we have a big get-together. They're all great. Gray's never tried to play dad to me, but he's been there and he's good for mom. He's this, like, high-flying business type, so he kinda balances her out. A bit like my dad did, just … in a different way, I guess."

"Are you close to his kids?"

Eden made a see-sawing gesture with her hand. "Not close-close, but we all get on. We were all grown-ups with our own lives when our parents got together, so it's not like we grew up together. But I guess that also means there wasn't the same resentment there might have been if we were younger. None of us wanted our parents alone for the rest of their lives."

She broke off after that, seeing the quiet reflection on the face of the young man opposite. "Shit, Charlie, I'm going on about my mom and you … I didn't think. I'm sorry."

But he immediately shook his head. "Don't be. I like hearing about your family. Feels like … I dunno. Getting to share it, even just a bit."

Eden grabbed his hand and squeezed gently. "You are. I want you to always feel welcome, Charlie. And not just like a guest. You're part of it now – back in Charming, at my mom's, wherever. You're family. Always."

* * *

"Dad, chill out. I can spend a couple of hours on my own, I'm not five …"

"That ain't even the point, Kerri – this was meant to be our chance to spend some proper time together," Chibs sighed, glaring at the burner phone in his hand and the curt message that had just shit all over his plans.

But, whether she was still feeling like she had to be on her best behaviour after everything that had happened or she genuinely understood his predicament, Kerrianne didn't seem at all phased by the prospect of her father taking off to attend to club business. And that left the biker unsure whether to be relieved or offended.

"Maybe I could just tell Tig to take care o' whatever it is tha-"

"Dad, seriously," she half laughed, half groaned, rolling her eyes at him. "Bad enough having you all distracted worrying about how Eden's getting on, just go already. I've got my phone, my Kindle, I'll be fine! And we can do something when you get back."

"Bike ride to that Japanese garden in Lodi you wanted to see?" he suggested.

"Sure," his daughter nodded, accepting the little hug he gave her without any sign of the sulk he had to admit he had feared.

"Well, okay then," Chibs said, straightening up. "Guess I'd better go see what's what. Just one thing, darlin' – stick to the clubhouse til' I get back. I know you're not a wee girl anymore," he added quickly, before she could protest. "But you're still _my_ wee girl and it ain't like you know the area. Please just humour yer aul' da on this. Anything you need, you just ask – Wheels is about here somewhere, Lyla's probably in the office …"

"I'll be _fine_," Kerrianne repeated wryly. "I live in Belfast, remember? I'm not daft."

"I know," he sighed, planting a kiss on her forehead before shrugging his cut back on. "I'll try not to be long."

But his daughter had already dropped onto the battered couch in the corner and draped her legs comfortably over the arm as she jammed her ear buds in and tuned everything else out, making it Chibs' turn to roll his eyes as he headed for the garage office to give Lyla a heads up to keep an eye on the teenager.

The sudden muffled commotion as he approached the firmly closed door only half registered with his brain, until he marched into the cramped room and found a rather flushed looking Lyla gathering paperwork off the floor while Knox lounged casually against the opposite wall.

"Chibs! Did you, uh, need something?" Lyla managed, pushing her hair back from her face, but not quite meeting his gaze.

"Just wanted to tell ya Kerri's hanging about the clubhouse – I gotta nip out for a bit, so …"

"Oh, I'll check in with her," the little blonde offered swiftly. "In fact, I'll go right now and let her know to just shout if she needs anything."

"Thanks, love," Chibs said, a bemused little smile threatening to tug at his mouth. "Not interrupting anything, am I? Wouldn't wanna … hold ya back …"

"No! I mean, no, it's fine. I'll just … I'll just go."

And with that she'd scuttled off without a backwards glance, leaving Chibs to eye the Rogue River sergeant knowingly. "You good to ride out wi' me to the cabin, see what's got Tigger in a flap?"

"Sure thing, whatever you need. You're the boss," Knox shrugged easily, pushing away from the wall to also head for the door.

"For me sins," Chibs nodded. "Speaking o' which … Yer t-shirt's inside out, mate."


	57. Chapter 57

**Fifty-Seven**

"So, this thing wi' you and Lyla-"

"Hey, I ain't trying to mess her around, man," Knox said, his hands held up as he watched the mother charter president straddle his bike in the Sam's Yard lot and light up a now rarer cigarette in the absence of his pregnant old lady.

"Glad to hear it," Chibs drawled, through a slowly exhaled stream of smoke as he tilted his head back. "'Cause I'd hate to have to post ya back home in a wee box. But that leads me to my concern. Now, don't go getting me wrong – you're a good asset to have here. But at the end o' the day, you're still patched to Rogue River. Monroe's sergeant no less. You thought about what that means?"

"Thought about very little else, as it happens," Knox sighed. "Look, it's early days - I dunno how serious this thing is. I know I ain't looking to play her, but for all I know, maybe I'm just the rebound guy after Ope."

"Maybe," Chibs said, without conviction, simply watching his brother as he paced restlessly in front of his bike.

"And it ain't like I could ask her to come back with me anyway, is it? This place, it's her home. She's settled here, the kids are settled here."

"Lot o' memories," Chibs acknowledged. "Not all o' them good though."

"But not the kind you can run from. I guess you probably know that better than most."

The Scotsman took another long drag on his cigarette, staring off into the distance thoughtfully. "You ever consider transferring?"

"What, patch Samcro? I mean, I guess I ain't ruled it out, but …"

"But you earned that SAA patch. Nah, I get it, brother. But, think on this for a minute, what if you didn't have to gi' it up?"

Knox frowned, trying to work out how that might be. "I ain't looking to tread on Hap's toes here," he said.

"And if you were, he'd probably cut 'em off for ya," the president smirked. "Might not be an issue though. Look, keep it under yer hat for now. Ain't nothin' settled, but … Well, Quinn ain't ever been used to settling in one place too long. He's thinking about resurrecting the nomad charter. And it could be a good thing for us in the long run – recruiting tool, y'know. And Hap ain't exactly the settling type either. Might be looking to head off wi' him for a spell. Six months maybe. Maybe more. _If_ he knew there was someone to step up in his place."

The Rogue River sergeant stopped his pacing to stare at the older biker. "You're serious? You'd have me as mother charter SAA?"

Chibs shrugged. "I reckon I'd trust you wi' my life, brother. Although, I gotta warn you, if this comes together and you wind up breaking Lyla's heart, I'll personally put you in a fucking hole. That lass is like blood to me and she's been through enough hell for any lifetime."

"I don't want her hurt either, Chibs. I swear on my goddamn life."

The president pitched his smoke, buckled his helmet and let his bike roar into life. "Good enough for me."

* * *

"Brace yourself," Eden grinned, turning towards Charlie as he followed her instructions on where to park up and switched off the ignition of her car.

Sure enough, no sooner had they both stepped out of the vehicle than they heard the shriek of delight.

"They're here! Oh, Gray, they're here, come quick!"

And with that, an effortlessly elegant older woman with silver-blonde hair and dressed all in floaty layers of white hurried towards them, her arms outstretched in greeting and not one but two tiny long-haired Chihuahuas scampering around her feet.

"Eden, oh darling, look at you!" the woman, who despite their different colouring was unmistakable as Eden's mother, declared joyfully as she swept her daughter into a loving hug before pulling back to look at her again in delighted disbelief. "I can't believe my baby's having a baby of her own!"

But if Charlie felt like an awkward intruder on such a reunion, it was only for a second, before their hostess gave her daughter another little squeeze and then left her to hurry round to his side of the car and, catching him off-guard, simply swept him into a hug too.

"And this handsome young man must be Charlie," she beamed, pulling back to look at him too and laying a hand on his cheek. "Welcome, welcome. I'm so glad you could make the trip with Eden – she's told me all about you. A boxer, like my Joey, I hear. Eden's dad, you know. Now, you have to promise me something. Promise me you'll treat this just like home and make yourself comfortable. You're not just a guest, not to us. Promise?"

"Uh, I promise," Charlie nodded, a slow grin crossing his face at the unexpected warmth of her greeting and at the two tiny dogs now jumping up around his legs in excitement over someone new.

"And these two rascals seem to like you already," Eden's mom smiled, stopping to scoop them up and hush them. "This is Gidgit and this is Coco. And where on earth is my head? I'm Celeste. So no calling me Mrs Moore, even if you do feel it's polite. Now, a strapping young man like you can bring the bags, but then I want you two to just relax and settle in. Everyone wanted to come and see you, but I said no, let's give them an evening to just unwind."

"Oh, thank god," Eden sighed happily, shouldering the small bag that was the only one Charlie had allowed her to lift while he hefted the rest and followed Celeste inside. "I was dreading having to get dressed up for some big welcome dinner or something."

"I knew it," Celeste nodded. "Besides, there'll be plenty of time for all that. Ah, there you are – look who's here, Gray."

"Eden, so good to see you, honey – you look great," the tall, distinguished-looking man absently cleaning his glasses as he approached smiled, leaning down to kiss her cheek before extending a hand to Charlie. "And you must be Charlie – welcome. Grayson West, but everyone calls me Gray. Good drive?"

"It was good," Eden nodded. "Charlie didn't shout at me over my directions or anything."

"Wise man," Gray laughed. "That all the bags or do you need me to go get the kitchen sink out of the car?"

"Very funny," Eden rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know I packed light! Mostly because nothing fits anymore …"

"Oh, don't tell your mother that. Like she needs an excuse to go shopping. Charlie, son, you're welcome to stick with me if these two decide to hit the mall. Save yourself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll let Celeste get you settled in your rooms and I'll be serving drinks out back when you're done."

"Thanks, Gray," Eden smiled fondly as he headed off, before catching the look on Charlie's face and practically reading his mind. "Hey, don't worry about getting in Chibs' bad books," she whispered. "I won't disappear off without you, promise. Relax. Enjoy yourself. We're on vacation!"

* * *

Having shown a wide-eyed Charlie to his more than comfortable room first and left him to unpack or sprawl out on the big double bed as he pleased, Celeste and Eden headed down the hall to the light and airy room that was always Eden's for the asking, mother and daughter sitting down on the edge of the bed and just looking at each other for a moment before pulling each other into another warm embrace.

"I missed you, mom," Eden whispered, almost tearfully, as she laid her head on her mother's shoulder.

"Oh baby, I missed you too," Celeste sighed, stroking her hair softly as she held her tight. But after a long moment, she pulled back to look at her, taking her hands and giving them a little squeeze. "Are you happy?"

Eden nodded, too emotional to trust herself to speak.

"Then that's all that matters. Now, am I ever going to get to meet this man of yours, or at the very least see a picture? He is going to be my son-in-law after all and it's his fault I'll soon be a grandma four times over!"

With a little laugh, Eden wiped at her eyes and pulled out her phone, finding a few pictures Lyla had taken and sent to her from the night of the clubhouse party to celebrate both her and Chibs' engagement and Kerrianne's presence in Charming.

"So, uh, this is Filip," she said tentatively, having found a photo that captured him smiling and more relaxed, but still suddenly unconvinced she'd done enough to prepare her mother for the realisation her daughter had gotten herself inextricably involved with the significantly older leader of a bunch of outlaw bikers.

But to Celeste's credit, if she had her doubts, she kept them off her face as she took the phone and examined the photographic evidence of her daughter's relationship.

"Hmm, older than I expected, but I can see the attraction," she said quietly. "And Scottish, you said – kept the accent, I take it?"

Eden nodded, staring at her mother unsurely. "That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

"Oh, Eden, what do you want me to say, darling?" Celeste sighed. "That I don't approve? That I'm scared for you, for what your connection to a man like him might bring? What good would that do? What good would any of that do when you're sitting here pregnant with his baby?"

"If I know you're thinking it, you might as well say it," her daughter mumbled, looking down at her hands and toying with the diamond on her finger. "I just … I hate disappointing you …"

"Eden, sweetheart!" her mother gasped, gripping her shoulders to make her look at her. "You could _never_ disappoint me. I don't want you thinking that. You're my little girl and you have been through _so_ much. Probably more than you've even told me. I just want you to be safe and happy."

"He'd do anything to keep me safe, mom. And he makes me happy. I do get why you'd worry and it's not like I haven't wondered if it was crazy to get in too deep, to get caught up in his world. But … I love him, I really do."

"And I don't have to look too hard to see he loves you," Celeste admitted, lifting the phone from the bed again to swipe through a couple more pictures, stopping on one of her daughter wrapped in the biker's arms. Even in just a photo, she could see the love in his eyes as he looked down at Eden and, for a moment, she felt like she'd actually intruded on the couple. "You don't need my blessing, baby. But you have it. You do. I trust you. I trust your judgement."

"Even after everything?" Eden asked. "After … Shane?"

"Ugh, that name is banned in this house," Celeste declared. "You put him right out of your head, sweetheart, and tell me more about this Filip and his club. Charlie, he's one of them too, these Sons? That lovely young man, I can't quite believe it …"

Eden had to chuckle at that, wiping tears from her eyes as she started to swipe through more pictures, introducing her mom to her new family until Gray had to call them to join him and Charlie out by the pool. And in the late SoCal sunshine, a weight finally lifted off her shoulders.

* * *

"The fuck d'ya mean he's gone? How can he be gone? You're clearly fucking joking."

"I ain't that fucking funny. And if I knew that, I'd hardly be standing here with my thumb up my ass, would I?" Tig bit out, pacing back and forth in front of the cabin and cursing up a storm. "You think the War Boys got to him?"

"What, Johnny One-Leg and a couple o' fucking dentists? Any serious outlaw ambition went to shite when that cookhouse blew and, one way or another, took their key players outta the game," Chibs said grimly. "Could he have taken off himsel'?"

"State he was in? Doubtful."

"Who was on guard?" Knox asked, arms folded across his broad chest.

"Caught out on a shift change," Tig admitted, finally running out of steam and coming to a halt, wiping a hand over his face. "He was there when Rat left, gone when Montez arrived. He got held up and Rat couldn't stay with another security job waiting. Shit happens. None of us expected Vane to be going anywhere. And he had a twenty-minute window, tops. Mother_fucker_. What now?"

"I don't need this goddamn bullshit, Tiggy," Chibs sighed, shifting to lean his back against the wall of the cabin.

"Maybe that's a loose end we shoulda tied up right at the start …"

"Maybe," the president shrugged. "Too fucking late for coulda-woulda-shouldas now. Put a few feelers out. See if our resident Aryan meth-head brethren might throw up a wee clue. I gotta get back to Kerri."

"Course," Tig nodded. "I'll keep you posted, brother. Probably ain't worth worrying about his sorry ass."

"I hope you're right," Chibs grimaced. "I really hope you're right."


	58. Chapter 58

**Fifty-Eight**

Reaching for her ringing phone as she lounged comfortably by the pool, just content to laze in the sun and watch Charlie shoot hoops, Eden smiled to see the name lit up on the screen, but raised an eyebrow when she realised it was actually an incoming video call.

"Hi, baby," she said. "Missing me so much you've embraced the twenty-first century? I'm impressed. Did Bug give you lessons?"

"Oi, less o' yer lip, lass," the Samcro president grinned, peering at her from the screen. "Can ya blame a man for wanting to cop a peek at that wee bikini?"

Eden's cheeks flushed lightly at that, even as her nose wrinkled critically and she tugged at the floaty cover-up that didn't actually cover much of her simple olive-green bikini, making Chibs frown.

"Hey, I've told ya before - none o' that," he scolded. "You, my love, are an absolute stunner and I'd make ya see it if I didn't have a very particular reason to be calling …"

"What? Has something happened?" Eden demanded, immediately on guard and sitting up, her swimwear forgotten, before he had a chance to sooth her fears.

"Everything's fine, I promise," Chibs said quickly, realising his mistake. "No need to fret, pet. There's just someone here who wants to see you."

"Where are you? Is that the Scrapyard? Is it Seth? 'Cause he could just call me himself, you know?"

"Aye, he could," Chibs smiled knowingly. "But he's kinda got his hands full right now …"

More and more puzzled by the cryptic turn her old man's call had taken, Eden was just about to demand answers when the picture on the screen tilted away from his scarred face and the sound distorted into a mumble – only for it to all suddenly right itself and a curious little face to be beaming out at her.

"Auntie Eden? Oh, I see her! Hi, Auntie Eden!"

"Oh my god, Theo!" she gasped in shock and delight. "What are you doing there? Oh, sweetie, it's so good to see you – I wish I was there to give you the biggest hug!"

"Mom said we could visit dad," the youngster grinned. "I wish you were here. I like your boyfriend though – he's cool."

"He is, isn't he?" she laughed, tears of happiness pricking at her eyelids. "Oh, Theo, look at you. You got big!"

Her nephew, distracted by something just off screen, laughed too as he nodded at what had been muttered to him and then returned his attention to her. "Chibs says not to say you did too. Him and dad told me about my new baby cousin – you don't look huge like Auntie Mel did though."

"Cheeky monster," Eden giggled. "I've got a ways to go baking this one, buddy, and Auntie Mel did have _two_ babies, to be fair."

"Anyway, I gotta go now," Theo said, that cheeky sparkle in his eyes. "Your _boyfriend_ wants to talk to you."

"Okay," she grinned, amused to be teased about her love life by her nephew. "I missed you, monster. Love you. Hug your dad for me."

"I will. Love you, Auntie Eden. Here's your _boyfriend_."

After another shuffled moment, her old man's equally amused face reappeared and Eden could only shake her head in disbelief, her hand pressed to her mouth and tears slipping down her cheeks.

"How?" she managed.

"Long story," Chibs smiled. "Ah, darlin', don't cry …"

"Telling the pregnant woman not to cry, you might as well tell me not to breathe," she half laughed, half sobbed. "God, Filip, it'll just mean _so_ much to Seth to see him again. I can't believe Aubrey changed her mind – is she there? Did she say why?"

"Listen, don't you go worrying about the details – just enjoy your trip knowing things are good here and it ain't gonna just be a one-time thing. You'll see the wee lad plenty in future. And a cracking wee lad he is too."

Eden's heart melted all over again at that and she wiped at her eyes as she beamed at him. "I love that you two have a bromance going on already. He thinks you're cool, you know."

"I'll have you know I am very cool, lass," Chibs smirked, a smug look on his face. "I've got a badass bike _and_ a hot girlfriend."

She could only burst out laughing, fervently wishing she could be there to hug the nephew she hadn't seen properly in so long, to witness her brother's happiness, and just celebrate the moment in the arms of her handsome old man.

"I miss you already," she sighed, her bright smile turning wistful.

"Miss you too, baby. It's good to see you relaxing though. How's our wee button doing?"

"Growing like a weed if my appetite's anything to go by," Eden said, rolling her eyes. "Who knew pickles and ice-cream was a thing? Poor Charlie's appalled."

"Poor Charlie nothin'," Chibs snorted. "If he was here, he'd be scrubbing split beer and Christ knows what off the clubhouse floor – the lad's getting off light. You save that sympathy for yer poor aul' man. Been spoiled rotten having you in my arms every night and now not so much as a wee kiss and cuddle …"

"Just making sure you don't take me for granted," his old lady teased. "And hey, I'm the one with raging hormones to contend with, remember?"

"Oh-ho, so ya really are missing me then, lass?" he grinned. "Good to know. Hold that thought though, 'cause yer big brother's here and I don't want him trying to knock lumps outta me again …"

Chibs' face disappeared in a blur of motion and then Seth was on the screen, wiping a hand over his beard and grinning at her in a way she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Hey, kid. Pretty crazy, huh?"

"Pretty crazy," Eden nodded, feeling her emotions threaten to overwhelm her again at seeing her brother's happiness. "I'm so happy for you, Seth, _so_ happy."

"Did he tell you this was his doing?"

"What?" she said, thinking for a moment that he maybe meant the call, but sensing that wasn't quite it.

"Chibs," Seth said, sounding just a little impatient in his eagerness for her to keep up. "He tracked down Aubrey, talked to her. When she told me that at first, I thought I was gonna kill him for interfering – I thought maybe he'd made things worse, that she was calling to say stay away. But whatever he said … It worked, Eden, it really fucking worked! I get to see my _son_."

"Put him back on," Eden demanded, smiling through her tears when the biker's sheepish face reappeared.

"You mad wi' me?"

"Furious," she laughed, wiping at her eyes again. "How could you turn me into an emotional mess and not be here so I can cry all over you, you bastard?"

Chibs couldn't help but laugh too. "Sorry, baby, my bad."

"I love you so much, Filip Telford. I can't even … I _love_ that you would do this for Seth."

But the Samcro president just shrugged. "That's what family's for, my darlin'."

* * *

"Like something outta fucking Deliverance," Tig muttered, kicking a used shotgun cartridge with the toe of his boot, after he and Happy had climbed out of the Sam's Yard van driven by a nervous-looking Wheels.

The long lane leading to the Cleary residence was overgrown, secured at the bottom where they'd parked up by a lopsided gate sorely in need of a fresh coat of paint and wrapped instead in barbed wire. It didn't exactly scream _welcome_, but they imagined that was exactly how its owners liked it.

"This is what I get stuck with while Charlie gets the hot chick in a bikini gig …" the prospect groused, until Tig reached in the driver's window and cuffed him round the head.

"That _hot chick's_ your president's old lady, asshole. You got no business thinking about her in a bikini."

"So you want me to think about her _not_ in a bikini?" Wheels shot back, his frustration over getting the worst of all the grunt work creeping through and dulling his usual sense of self-preservation.

"Don't give me an excuse to shoot you," Tig growled. "Just stay here and stay alert. Think you can manage that, shithead?"

Without waiting for an answer, the VP jerked his head in the direction of the house in the distance. "Come on, Hap. And if I rip these fucking jeans on that wire, I'm gonna crack skulls."

* * *

"Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"

"Yup," Knox drawled, from the chair he was tilting back on two legs, his arms crossed casually behind his head and his boots kicked up on the edge of the office desk.

Lyla looked at him expectantly at that.

"Right here," he shrugged. "Who knows where that Vane fucker's gonna pop back up? I'm manning the fort."

"So shouldn't you go do that then?" the little blonde said, frustrated with herself for getting flustered under his piercing gaze.

"What can I say? I'm keeping an eye on the thing in this place most worth protecting," the biker said, a knowing grin tugging at his lips. "Ah, nearly got a smile!"

"I'm busy," Lyla insisted, trying to wipe it away sternly. "And you're a distraction."

"I know. You should let me show you just how distracting I can be …"

"Oh, believe me, I already know," came her wry retort, even as he caught her hand when she got up to go to the filing cabinet and, in one fluid move, righted his chair and tugged her down onto his lap. "_Knox!_"

But he only laughed at her caught-off-guard squeak, reaching up to let a stray lock of her hair glide through his fingers before he tucked it behind her ear and guided her lips closer to his.

"What happened to Aidan?" he murmured, his mouth tantalisingly close to hers.

"Why are you always like this?" Lyla grumbled softly, even as her fingertips traced lightly over his stubbled jaw. Much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, he really was a very good-looking guy. And in such a different way to Opie, who had never really understood his own appeal. If there was one thing Aidan Knox definitely didn't lack it was self-confidence, as proven when he closed that final gap between them and softly kissed her lower lip, his hand sliding up her bare leg towards the hem of her short skirt.

"S-Stop," she tried. "I am not getting caught again."

"We didn't really get caught the last time," Knox protested. "Besides, Chibs knows anyway – he won't say anything …"

"Anyone could walk in. Aidan, I'm serious."

"So am I," he teased, kissing her again, this time more deeply. "Deadly serious."

She gave into it for a moment, unable to resist, kissing him back slow and soft until reality intervened again and she pulled back. "No, we can't do this. Not here."

"Ly, there's no one here," he sighed, those strong hands holding her in place on his lap. "Chibs took Kerri to Seth's, Tig and Hap got some club shit to handle – there's only a couple of the mechanics out there and they're clocking off … It's just you and me, doll."

Toying with a button of his shirt as she sagged against him a little, almost in defeat, Lyla let her forehead rest lightly against his, her eyes drifting closed for a moment. "I should be heading home."

"Isn't this the night your mom has the kids?"

It was. And damn him for having noticed. It had become a regular thing, a chance for Lyla to get some semblance of balance in her life as a working single mom, to hang out with Eden or Flick or some of the girls, or to check in at the clubhouse. Or sometimes just to have some time to herself to get her head straight. She felt she might need that right now …

"I should still be heading home," she said softly.

"Come on, Ly," Knox tried, his words light, but the look in his blue eyes more intense. "Just spend some time with me. Give me a chance. Unless you're only interested in me for my body …"

She couldn't help laughing a little at that, rolling her eyes at his bravado. "Does your ego know no bounds?"

He shrugged, that gaze breaking from hers. It was only for a moment and then he was looking her right in the eye again, but the tiny, unexpected hint of vulnerability still struck her.

"Takes a hit with you sometimes," he said evenly, no trace of accusation, just simple honesty.

Lyla's defences softened and regret washed over her as she suddenly saw how their interactions must seem to this big, kinda brash biker wearing his heart on his sleeve in a way Opie never had. She'd struggled for so long with living in the shadow of Donna's ghost, with Opie seeming to both want a relationship and yet keep her at arm's length. She knew how it felt to be on the receiving end of that and yet here she was doing the same thing to someone else.

She slipped off Knox's lap before he could tighten his grip enough to stop her.

"I can't do this," she said desperately, turning her back on him. "This isn't fair to you. I can't be what you want."

"Lyla, I don't want anything except a chance. I haven't got some big game plan here," the biker tried. "I'm not gonna propose or demand you run away with me. Look, I like you, I clearly think you're gorgeous, and much as I ain't knocking the sex, I'd actually kinda like to just be able to be seen in public with you. Go for bike rides. Catch a movie. Normal shit. Maybe it'll go somewhere, maybe it won't. That's fucking _life_, doll."

"I'm scared, okay?" she finally burst out, rounding on him tearfully. "I'm _scared!_"

The chair he'd tilted back on two legs again thudded back onto the floor and he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, sensing that they were finally getting somewhere.

"Of me?"

Lyla shook her head.

"Then what? _Talk_ to me, babe – I don't fucking bite. Unless you want me to," he added with a little grin, before swiftly turning serious again as he rose to his feet and guided her to sit on the edge of her desk. "Talk to me."

She reached up to touch a hand gently to his cheek as he ended up stood between her legs, his hands resting lightly on her knees. "I … I'm scared of letting you in. I'm scared of letting myself get attached and then … losing you. And not just for me, for the kids. I have to think about them, Aidan, I have to – they've gone through so much. Losing Donna, Ope, Piney, and it's not like they're oblivious to what's gone on with the club. You think they haven't been scarred by what happened with Jax and Tara and Gemma? That they don't realise Bobby's gone? Those kids baked cookies with Bobby, played computer games with Juice, basketball with Kozik. You think they don't know how many people have been ripped out of their lives?"

"I know," Knox sighed, when he'd finally found his voice. "I get it. I do. And I can't argue with that, can I?"

Unsure whether to be relieved that he seemed to understand or disappointed, Lyla let her head rest against his shoulder when he pulled her closer.

"Can't go through life like that though, Ly," Knox said gently, his hand cradling the back of her head as he dropped a little kiss into her hair. "Not letting yourself get close to anyone. You gonna teach the kids to be like that, go through life alone? I know it's messed up what they've had to deal with so young. But you want them growing up cold and hardened by it, even more messed up? It's okay to be scared, but … wouldn't it be easier to be scared if you had someone to share that with? I ain't dismissing any of it to get my way, I really ain't. I just don't want that for you, for any of you. You can't shut everyone out forever, darlin'."

Pulling back just enough to look at him, not sure what she was hoping to see, Lyla couldn't help the faint smile that quirked the corner of her mouth, despite her tears, when he pressed the tiniest of kisses to her nose.

"It don't gotta be anything heavy," he said, seeming to sense this was going to have to be their crossroads. "I can do slow. I can do casual. I just don't think I can do sneaking around like we're doing something wrong. Not anymore."

Lyla took a deep breath and let it out slowly, before pulling him down so she could kiss his forehead.

He couldn't tell if it was a good sign or bad.

"Slow," she said. "Casual. No promises."

Knox stared back at her, a complicated and unreadable look crossing his face before he simply cleared his throat and nodded. "Uh, I can do that. Yeah, I can do that."

He slipped out of reach, raking a hand through his dark hair as he headed for the door of the office. "Thought I'd just casually go change this shirt, maybe take ya for a very casual dinner in town? Or not. Whatever suits."

"Dinner would be … good," Lyla smiled, bemused by his new-found uncertainty. "Say seven?"

"Seven," Knox nodded in agreement, bumping his fist against the frame of the door as he disappeared – only to reappear a second later, dart back inside and lift her right off her feet to kiss her hard, before dropping her back down and grinning as he took off again. "Totally casual," he called back.

Lyla couldn't help but laugh, despite her worst fears, as she sank down at her desk to ponder what had just happened. And what she was getting herself into.


	59. Chapter 59

**Fifty-Nine**

His patience was wearing thin.

He didn't even know what he thought he could gain from sticking around. He couldn't fucking stand Stella and her obvious lust for power, and Alyssa wasn't much better with her incessant whining about her husband. He didn't give two shits about any of them. His only connection to this place had been well and truly severed. The brother he'd never managed to be truly close to was dead and gone, any chance of reconciliation ripped away.

Theirs had always been a complex relationship, ever since they were kids. He didn't like to admit, even to himself, that he had always secretly longed for that approval. The needy little brother dismissed by his indifferent elder sibling. But even as that inner desire to be closer persisted, being made to feel irrelevant actually only made that festering resentment grow.

_He_ was the one with the good job, the comfortable life, money, respect, status – why the hell should he care what that deadbeat thought? Running with some half-assed gang of wannabe bikers, nothing more than a common fucking criminal … And not even a very good one.

Shane's jaw clenched, his grip on his phone tightening involuntarily.

No wonder Mack had ended up dead. His own sheer recklessness and incompetence had probably made it all but inevitable.

His was still his brother though. His flesh and blood.

He couldn't let his murder lie.

Trying to control his racing mind, he focused his attention back on the screen, his thumb flicking through images in a bid to let them fill his thoughts and push aside those of his brother's body in a pool of blood.

Smiling faces stared back at him from the screen, one in particular recurring over and over. He knew every detail of that face, that body. Intimately. He remembered vividly how it felt to have that soft skin under his hands, to trace over it with his fingertips, his lips, his tongue.

He could practically taste her just thinking about it.

He loathed social media himself, dismissing it as a vacuous waste of time – a vanity project he had no interest in participating in. Curiosity had got the better of him though, and her privacy settings posed little obstacle. Once his mind was made up that he wanted to gain a window into her new life, it was simple. Just harvest a picture of an old mutual college acquaintance who also didn't seem to buy into cultivating much of an online presence, from some small-town online news article about charity fundraising or shit like that, create a profile, send the follow request, and then wait.

Boom. Barely twenty-four hours later, an acceptance, a casual message from her with vague _long-time-no-see_ pleasantries, and that was it. It probably never crossed her mind again, but there it was laid out before him – her life without him.

She didn't post a lot, but had clearly had the account a long time. It irked him to see there was no trace of their previous connection, deep as it had run. He had never paid attention to what she posted online while they were together, but he had to assume there would once have been at least some evidence of their relationship. That she could erase it just like that, as if it had never happened, rankled at him.

But it was the more recent photos that he'd taken to pouring over, as if searching for some sign, though of what he was unsure. The pictures of her posing happily with her brother at the opening of his new gym was like salt in his wounds. Their closeness had always been something he felt resentful of. Threatened by even.

And that picture of her with some attractive blonde woman …

He couldn't deny the flare of lust, even as it made him furious to think of her going out dressed like that. On someone else, the skimpy gold dress would probably have looked trashy as hell, but she did pull it off, he had to admit. Still, he hated to think of the attention it would draw, the message it would send. She looked like every man's wet dream. She didn't need to do that. Didn't need to dress like a slut to get noticed.

Not when she had his full and undivided attention, if only she would acknowledge it.

That fucking dress. His licked his dry lips as he stared at her staring back at him from the screen. The shimmering sequins barely covered her ass, exposing firm thighs, long legs that seemed to go on forever. The daring neckline plunged between her breasts, a path his tongue had been denied access to for far too long, and he shifted uncomfortably as he leaned back against the pillows and let his imagination take over.

His hand would never make up for the feel of hers, but it tightened around his stiffening cock all the same. How he'd relish that moment she would free him from his boxers and take him in her mouth. Not so damn innocent when she was happily sucking him off, or letting him take her from behind on the floor of his apartment like a bitch in heat, the carpet burning her knees.

That conflict always surged within him though.

He couldn't resist her like that, naked and willing, her wet cunt gripping his cock like a vise, her soft moans and skin meeting skin all he could hear – that and his heart hammering in his chest and in his ears – making him thrust harder and deeper, spurring him on until they were both breathless and covered in sweat and the growing ache low in his belly and groin would build and build and build …

"F-Fuck …" he ground out, biting his lip as he tried to draw this out, slowing the fist pumping the length of his erect cock, only for his hips to take over, bucking into his hand and seeking that friction as if by instinct.

His eyes had drifted closed, but he forced them open again and focused on the latest picture – laugher on that smiling face, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, the fullness of her tits on display in a simple bikini. He imagined pulling those thin straps down her lightly tanned shoulders, her hand stroking him instead of his as he got his mouth on her dusky nipples, licking, suckling, biting.

In his mind, his brewing climax would mark her as his, sending his hot cum spurting over the toned stomach that may have been cut off in the picture but was there when he closed his eyes, right down to that dumb little tattoo on her ribs. He hated tattoos, especially on women. Thought they looked cheap. But that was okay, he could overlook one little flaw, when she was otherwise perfect. He'd say one thing for her relationship with that damn brother of hers – his career had resulted in her always keeping in great shape. Those pert tits, that flat stomach and tight ass … She always looked good on his arm. Why the hell would she give up the chance to get back everything they had?

He pushed that thought out of his mind, letting his eyes close again so he could concentrate enough to almost feel her, his grip tightening as he stroked himself harder, lost in memories of thrusting inside her, fucking her over and over in their bed, wanting to hear her moan his name again. Because, as far as he was concerned, she was and always would be one thing. _His._

"Oh fuuuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the pillows as his whole body tensed, his balls tightening almost painfully, and he finally came hard in his hand and over his own stomach, her name dragged from his lips. "Fuck, Eden …"

His breathing was still ragged when he glanced back at the phone still gripped in his other hand, even as it lay limp on top of the covers of the bed. A new post, one that quickly made his jaw clench and his eyes widen. Because now he knew exactly where she was.

Just not who the fuck that was with her.

* * *

"Chibs won't think it's disrespectful," Eden laughed. "And if he does, I'll be cross with him. I can hug my friends. I can definitely hug my little brother."

"I'm still just a prospect protecting the president's old lady though," Charlie said anxiously. "There are rules, Eden. It's a club thing. If I wasn't a prospect, maybe it'd be different, but …"

"Ugh, fine," she sighed, her finger hovering over the delete button before finally pressing it and then holding up her phone so he could see. "See? Gone. I still think you worry too much. It was just a nice shot of us having a laugh in the sun, no big deal."

"Sorry," the young man offered sheepishly, raking a hand through his surf-tousled mop of hair. "Maybe I'm being dumb."

"Well, yes," Eden shrugged, with a little smile. "But I suppose I get it. It's fine, Charlie. I'm keeping the picture though – it's a nice one."

"Okay," he relented, averting his gaze a little awkwardly. "Uh, hey, do you think it would be okay if maybe you could send it to me? I don't have a lot of pictures of family and stuff and-"

"Oh, Charlie, of course! And do you know what? We can take lots of pictures and make a whole album – some of our trip, some back home. It'll be great!"

"That would be cool," he nodded, before a thought struck him. "Chibs won't kill me if he sees this on my phone, will he?"

"No, Charlie, he won't," Eden sighed patiently. "It's just an innocent picture. No harm done, I promise."

* * *

Was _he_ the reason she wouldn't respond to his calls, his messages?

He'd been stunned to finally get a strange tone on the other end of the line and a mechanical voice telling him the number was no longer in use. He'd been convinced she just needed time, that she would see sense in the end and give him another chance.

Her reaction to how he'd handled things had been hysterical, she was bound to see that now that it had all blown over and she was in the clear. If anything, he'd done her a favour really. How would it have looked for her to be planning a damn wedding when she had the death of a child hanging over her head?

And in all the confusion, if he'd sought solace in the bed of that doe-eyed little nurse who'd been lusting after him for months, who could blame him? He'd had more than enough pressure on his shoulders trying to impress his bosses without adding Eden's drama into the equation. He was only fucking human.

He was prepared to let her feel like he had been the bad guy, if only she'd let him make amends. And couldn't she see how that would help her? By his side, as his wife, all that unpleasant business could truly be left behind. They could start afresh, build the lives they'd always dreamed of together.

So who the fuck was this guy spending time with her at her mom's, of all fucking places?

He looked too young for her for a start, like he could be in some godawful boyband, but there could be no denying the bright smiles on both their faces as she leaned her head on his shoulder and saluted the camera with her cocktail. That fucking bastard must have thought all his Christmases had come at once, Shane grimaced.

His fists clenched at the thought of them together. Of her in anyone's bed but his. She was _his_.

He'd make her see that if it was the last thing he did.

A thought occurred to him and he flicked through the images swiftly, looking for any sign of the same guy, any clue as to who he might be. There was nothing obvious though. She'd definitely not been posting much … Then, when he tried to return to the image that had caught him so off-guard, it had gone. Disappeared, just like that.

He froze, wondering what that meant, feeling somehow as if he'd been caught. Did she know that he was watching, that he could see whatever she posted? Did deleting the offending image point to guilt, a sign that she knew she was in the wrong, hurting him like that?

He had so many goddamn questions. Maybe it was time to get some answers.


End file.
